The Unexpected
by Deadly Diva
Summary: She left her comfortable life to blaze her own trail. Nothing is ever as easy as it appears to be. Through a series of unrelated events, Makimachi Misao learns to expect the unexpected. AxM
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone!!! Before you get the pitchforks, let me assure you all that I am diligently working on the next chapter of "Happily Ever After..." This just popped in my head and I had to get it on paper. Hopefully you will enjoy. I invite all manner of critique, criticism, praise and fury. Feedback of any kind helps an author to hone her craft. Enough of my ramblings, on to the fic._

_BTW: Rurouni Kenshin and all characters within are the property of Watsuki Nobuhiro. I'm just borrowing them for my sick and twisted purposes. Well, not really sick, just slightly ill..._

* * *

Darkness enveloped her petite frame. She twirled her raven hair around her fingers. Sighing, Misao looked at the book again. Disbelief marred her cherubic face as she crossed her legs Indian style. She groaned as the initial tingles of a numb bottom made themselves know. The twin mattress on the floor, which she was quite grateful to have, did not provide much cushioning. A familiar whistling sound could be heard as a blast of cold air assaulted Misao's body. She kept telling her landlord that the windows were letting in a draft. That slumlord wouldn't do anything about it. Misao cursed the cheap bastard as another gust of frigid air hit her.  
  
What kind of life was this for a young woman? Misao has left her home in Kyoto to pursue an acting career. When she left, she knew it would be tough, but she did not expect this. Most of what she saved went to securing the raggedy apartment she called home. It was a far cry from the Aoi-ya. The peeling paint and drafty windows fueled the occasional bout of homesickness.  
  
Back in Kyoto, Misao was one of the most well liked people. She never lacked for company. Between her cousins, Omasu and Okon, and her brothers, Shiro and Kuro, lived a pretty active life. She was known in every social circle. Guys wanted her. Girls wanted to be like her. Misao had the type of personality that drew people in. Now, she had scant few friends. Between her two waitressing jobs and the infrequent auditions, Misao didn't have much time to socialize.  
  
Misao pushed herself off the floor. She looked around the bare apartment; it wasn't too hard to find her boots. The lack of furnishings assured that. Misao pulled on her boots. Her coat was draped over the milk crates that served as her bureau, chairs and table. It was one of the few things that she had that still smelled like home. As she picked up the outer garment, Misao heard something fall to the floor. Upon examination, Misao realized it was her work schedule.  
  
"Oh shit! I was supposed to be there five minutes ago." Misao grabbed her make-up bag and threw it into her purse. Throwing her coat over her shoulders, she blew out her candles and dashed out of the door.  
  
As Misao ran down the street, she realized that living in the low rent district had its advantages. The most obvious at this point was that her job at the Blu Flayme was only a few blocks away. Her neighbors, if one could call them that, knew the routine and gave the tiny woman all the room she needed. As the populace parted like the Red Sea, Misao sprinted to the less than respectable club.  
  
"Misao, you're late… again." Kamatari looked at his watch as the late waitress barreled through the door.  
  
"Don't get your panties in a bunch. You'd be late too if your apartment had no electricity." Misao and Kamatari did this dance every time Misao was late. He'd pretend to be pissed and she'd pretend to care. It was quite the amicable working relationship.  
  
Kamatari shook his head. "Misao, if you needed help with the bill, you should have let me know."  
  
Honjou Kamatari knew Misao back from his days as a trans-gendered geisha in Kyoto. He had quite the following until the son of an influential businessman fell in love. The young man's father could not have his son involved with a geisha, much less a male geisha. It was unheard of. Fearing the political fallout, Sugiyama Tetsuo forced Kamatari out of town. Sugiyama Soshi was told that Kamatari left for a more profitable area. With the money he was given, Honjou Kamatari opened the Blu Flayme.  
  
"Kamatari, you know I couldn't take money from you. Besides, it's not like the lights were ever in the first place." Misao walked up to the bar and waved down the bartender.  
  
Kamatari's blue colored lids disappeared as his eyes widened. The young woman who lit up a room with her smile lived in an apartment with no lights. How ironic was that? Misao saw Kamatari's mouth about to open. She shook her head.  
  
"This is not the time or place for such talk." She looked at the empty section of bar in front of her. There was something missing, something important. "Chou!!! Where the hell is my drink?"  
  
Misao pounded her fist against the bar. That broom head always took too long with her drinks. Misao was sure he did it on purpose. Chou slowly made his way to the irritated sprite.  
  
"Now, now. When have I ever left you high and dry?" With a roguish smile, he placed the vodka and cranberry juice in front of Misao. "When have I ever left you?"  
  
"Never. That's the flippin' problem." Misao snatched her drink off the counter and took a sip. Chou was nice enough, but he had a habit of making the drinks too strong. Misao puckered her lips; he was nothing if not consistent. There was enough vodka in the eight-ounce glass to kill an ox. She shook her head. If he spent as much time learning the drink recipes as he did on that ridiculous hairstyle, Chou would be a killer bartender.  
  
Instead of bemoaning the mediocre bartender, Misao took it as a sign that she should not be drinking. She picked her purse up off the floor and headed to the dressing room.  
  
"Misao!"  
  
The petite young woman looked over her shoulder to see who had called out her name.  
  
"Come on Kamatari. If you are going to insist on wearing kimonos, you could at least train the elephant to stay in the tent."  
  
Kamatari laughed as he put his pet away. He scampered over Misao. Kamatari ran his fingers threw Misao's wind-swept hair. "Have I ever told you how I adore your silky raven locks? Such luster, it makes me jealous. How could I ever dream of competing with a knock out like you?"  
  
Misao slapped Kamatari's hand away. Whenever compliments flowed like water, there was favor coming. "What is it this time? I won't stay late another night. I told you to fire that chick a long time ago."  
  
Kamatari held a paper fan over his face in an act of feigned innocence. Misao glared at the sexually confused man. She knew that look too well. This one was going to be a doozy. Misao raised one eyebrow. Kamatari took it as his cue to continue.  
  
"Well you see, Megumi--"  
  
"Oh no…oh no you don't! We had an agreement. When I started here you promised me that I would not have to do that." Misao cheeks had turned a sinful shade of red. She was well aware that the Blu Flayme was an establishment for the mature, open-mended crowd; that was never an issue for her. She just did not want to be on that stage.  
  
"Misao, what could be more natural than you on the stage? You choreographed all the routines. Let's not forget that I have seen you naked, so I know you have the goods."  
  
Misao was not swayed by his arguments. She continued her journey to the changing room. There wasn't anything that Kamatari could say that would change Misao's mind. Or at least that was what she thought.  
  
"I'll give you two thousand off the top and you keep all the tips." Kamatari was desperate. Takani Megumi was his biggest draw. Without a comparable replacement, he would lose a lot of money.  
  
Misao froze in her tracks. The cash would come in handy. It would only be this time. Megumi would be back at work tomorrow and that would be the end of it.  
  
Kamatari noticed the momentary pause. Misao was seriously considering the offer. He offered up a silent prayer to the gods of nudity. The tiny woman took three steps toward the dressing room before stopping again.  
  
"You owe me for this Kamatari, and I'm not just talking money." Misao looked over her shoulder and winked at the very grateful transsexual. 


	2. Chapter 2

The hoots and screams from the crowd drowned out the pulsating beat in Misao's ears as she ran off stage. She could feel the energy in the air; it was intoxicating. Misao now understood why Megumi continued to do this when she had other means to pay her tuition. The rush was addictive. It called in a way that no drug could compare. 

As she walked into the dressing room, Misao could hear the crowd chanting her name. They wanted her to return to the stage. Misao giggled. She had no intention of getting back on stage in that capacity. She had done it to get Kamatari out of a jam. Though pleasurable, Misao had greater expectations for her life.

She threw a robe over her exposed body and sat in front of a mirror. The ritual of removing her stage make-up was tedious. In search of cold cream, Misao did not hear the dressing room door open behind her. She slathered the thick white cream all over her face, avoiding her eyes by closing them. Misao massaged the cold cream into her skin when something caught her ear. _Sandstorm_ began playing loudly in the background, drowning out the approaching footsteps. Misao rocked to the beat; the pulsating bass line always put her in a good mood. She was certain that Kamatari requested Yahiko play it to improve her mood. As Misao rubbed her temples, a cold hard hand clamped onto her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open. Slowly, she turned around to see who accosted her.

"Goodness, you scared me." Misao laughed as she saw who touched her. "You should know better than to sneak up on me like that. Don't forget, I can still beat you."

Misao grabbed a face towel to wipe the cold cream off her face. She stood up and walked over to the bathroom to thoroughly rinse her face. The bathroom was the most extravagant that Misao had ever seen. Kamatari had installed marble counter tops and gold inlayed mirrors. He truly spared no expense to make sure that his girls were comfortable on stage and off.

She turned the faucet on, adjusting the temperature just the way she liked it. Leaning down, Misao began splashing water on her face. The cool water felt good as ran down her neck. All her troubles went down the drain along with the cloudy water. Well, at least for that moment they did. Misao dried her face and returned to the person she had left only a few minutes ago.

She threw her arms around his neck. Looking into his crystalline eyes, Misao could see that something was troubling him. He was stiff, unresponsive. She brushed his bangs from his face.

"Come on. Tell me what's wrong." Misao poked him in the side. Normally, that would have made him squirm and beg for her to stop.

This time was different. He grabbed her wrist and held it tight. With his free hand, he slapped Misao across her face. To say she was stunned would have been an understatement. Staring incredulously at her companion, Misao rubbed the inflamed cheek.

"What the fuck was that? Have you lost your mind Enishi?" Misao sat at the vanity and took a look at her face. It was bright red, but there would be no bruising.

Beneath his black-rimmed glasses, Enishi rolled his eyes. "After the performance you just gave, you have the gall to ask me if I lost my mind. I could ask you the same thing." He lifted his hand to Misao's face, causing her to flinch. Enishi gently stroked the very same cheek that he assaulted.

Tears threatened to spill from Misao's teal eyes. It was happening again and like every time before this she was powerless to stop it. She knew it was wrong; she deserved so much better than this. Despite the fact that their relationship was the archetype for dysfunctional living, she loved him. Misao wondered how many more times she would have to forgive Enishi for an unprovoked outburst. His excuses had become stale and meaningless. There was only so much he could blame on Tomoe.

Yukishiro Tomoe. That name loomed over Misao ever since she met Enishi.

At first, he seemed like the troubled sensitive type. He was staring blankly into a cup of pretentious European coffee. His slender fingers were wrapped around the cup, clinging to it as if he were afraid it was going to disappear. Misao casually walked up to him. Artist types frequented Tia Maria, so Enishi seemed to fit right in. She looked down into his cup. Noticing that it hadn't been touched and was most likely ice cold, Misao offered to get him a fresh cup. Enishi looked up at the sound of Misao's voice. All he saw was dark hair and wide expressive eyes. Those eyes. He hadn't seen such perceptive, sincere eyes in so long.

"Tomoe," he whispered. The instant the name escaped his lips, he realized his error. Tomoe was gone, never to return. Darkness overtook the temporary brightness of his green eyes. He apologized for his error and returned to his cup.

Misao waved down another waitress. She whispered into the young woman's ear, and then took off her apron.

"Mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me."

Enishi did not have time to refuse her request. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Misao was seated next to Enishi. She extricated the cup from his grasp. He looked up, marveling at the nerve of the young woman who he momentarily mistook for Tomoe.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong?" Misao smiled at Enishi. He could see that her concern was genuine. Even though she did not know him, she actually cared about what he was going through.

Enishi sighed and told Misao of his hardship. She listened as he told her how he had spent the last two years trying to find his older sister, Tomoe. He had tracked her to a nightclub in Tokyo where she was working. By the time he got to the club, Tomoe was in the middle of a full-blown heroin overdose. It seemed that the club owner, Takeda Kanryuu, had started Tomoe off using to help her lose some of her inhibitions. While under the influence, the owner managed to get Tomoe to strip, among other things. This same man stood back and watched as Tomoe's life slipped from her. Enishi clutched his sister dying body and begged for her to hold on. He called the paramedics, hoping that she would ride this out like Kanryuu claimed. When the first emergency worker arrived, Tomoe was already dead.

Misao remembered feeling sorry for Enishi that day. She wanted to take away his pain. Oh the pain she saw his eyes. Misao would have given anything to see the light Enishi had in his eyes before his sister passed away. Now, all she wanted was to be rid of him.

"Enishi please. I'm tired of fighting with you." Misao was emotionally drained. It wasn't enough that she had just stripped in front of a club full of people. She now had to deal with Enishi psychoses.

"Then don't."

Enishi kissed Misao's bruised cheek. He trailed kisses down her neck. Misao mouthed a no, but not even a whimper escaped her lips. She inwardly cursed her body for reacting to Enishi's touch. He pushed the robe off her shoulder, exposing a breast. His hand slid down her side and traced the curve of her bosom. Misao's back reflexively arched to allow Enishi more access. She could hear herself moaning against her will. Misao silently berated herself as her mind and her body clashed over the proper course of action. Misao's mind swore that this would be the last time that she would give in to Enishi. Her body was actively mocking her with every shudder.

Misao did not have the resolve to stop Enishi for she knew what he went through. She could remember drying the tears that Enishi did not know he shed while he slept. Somewhere in his jaded being lived the young man that cared for Tomoe. Misao hoped beyond reason that she would be the one to heal Enishi's wounds.

"Enishi," she whispered.

He mischievously shook his head. Enishi fingered the collar of Misao's semi-sheer garment, ready to disrobe her altogether. In a last minute attempt to bring to Enishi's advances to a halt, Misao's hand held her robe tightly. An airy laughed escaped Enishi's lips.

"Why are you trying so hard Misao? I know you want me." Enishi lowered his mouth to hers. Before he could fully take advantage, the slamming of the dressing room door changed the situation.

Kamatari cleared his throat. He wondered what Misao was still doing with Enishi. Kamatari could see that Enishi meant her no good. Why couldn't she?

"Misao, I need you on the floor." He shot Misao a look that warned her to stay away from the troubled young man.

Misao wriggled away from Enishi and pulled her robe onto her shoulders. "I have to get back to work."

Enishi pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he glared at Kamatari. Enishi knew how Kamatari felt, for the cross-dressing man was quite vocal.

"I'll see you at my apartment later." He bent down and placed a possessive kiss in Misao's cheek.

As Enishi left the dressing room, he bumped shoulders with Kamatari. The effeminate man stood his ground. Though dressed in woman's clothing, Kamatari was a fierce fighter. He had to be. All too often some wise-ass would try to rough him up, simply because of the lifestyle he chose. The men's eyes met and a brief stare-down ensued. Neither was willing to relent. Enishi sighed. There was no point in challenging Kamatari. He was no threat. Giving him one last condescending look, Enishi left.

Kamatari glanced over his shoulder and could see the tears threatening to fall from Misao's eyes. Grabbing a nearby box of Kleenex, he approached.

"When are you going to learn?" Kamatari departed for the wardrobe room.

Staring in the mirror, Misao checked out her reflection. Gone was the independent free spirit. In her place was a broken co-dependent shell. Worst of all, she could not bring herself to blame Enishi. Misao saw all the warning signs, yet she chose to ignore them. A combination of naïveté and foolish pride led her to believe that she would not become a statistic. As she dried her tears, Misao swore that she saw a barcode materialize on her forehead. It was almost like an invisible statistician was using her as his personal ledger. Slowly, she composed herself. Those drinks weren't going to serve themselves.

* * *

Kaoru gave theTia Maria another once over. There were thirty minutes before she was scheduled to open the doors. Glancing down, she noticed a water spot on the table. Pulling out a cloth, Kaoru began scrubbing the offensive blemish into oblivion. A gentle tap at the door stopped her assault on the poor spot. 

"One o'clock," she yelled.

The tapping became a more persistent bang. Kaoru huffed. She had some choice words for the pompous, yet illiterate person who would not take no for an answer. There was a sign with the café's hours in the middle of the door. There was no excuse for such behavior. She stomped to the door and pulled it open with such force that it was nearly removed from its hinges.

"Listen, I said one o'clock. I would love to let you in now, but that would be my job." Kaoru did not bother to look at whom she addressing. A deep throaty laugh alerted her to the fact that this was no ordinary patron.

"It's nice to see you've learned some manners while you've been working here."

The voice was so familiar, too familiar. Kaoru looked up to see a pair of clear deep blue eyes that made hers look like cheap colored glass. Only one person had eyes that blue.

"Aoshi…"

* * *

_Here it is. The second installment. Let me know what you're thinking._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you all for being so patient. Writer's block is a beast that is hard to tame. Well, enough of my rambling... on with the show._

* * *

Aoshi sat patiently as Kaoru went to make him a cup of tea. It had been over a year since they last saweach other. He had sent Kaoru numerous emails detailing his latest research assignment in the Middle East. Ever so often, he would send her souvenirs from local merchants. At first glance, the tall athletically inclined young man was the last person one would expect to be doing graduate research on ancient matriarchal civilizations. His gender alone was enough to pique the interest of the head of the anthropology department. Aoshi was just grateful for the opportunity. 

Kaoru soon returned with a steaming cup of Aoshi's favorite brew, green tea. Though she was grateful to see him, Kaoru wondered what brought the wanderer back to her neighborhood. As she set the cup down, she looked into his face, a face that betrayed nary an emotion. She audibly huffed. He hadn't changed a bit during the course of his travels.

Kaoru watched intently as Aoshi drank his tea. She knew that green tea always put him a good mood. For that reason, Kaoru strived to make the best tea possible.

"Are you going to stand there and breath on me or are you going to say what's on your mind?" Aoshi sipped his tea slowly, savoring it. He soon realized that his efforts would be wasted on what Kaoru tried to pass off as tea. How could a Japanese woman not know how to make a decent cup of tea? Suppressing the urge to regurgitate the liquid concoction, Aoshi reminded himself that Kaoru was void of culinary skills.

"Well now that you asked," Kaoru sat across from the emotionless man, "Why are you back? I thought you weren't coming back until late spring early summer."

Aoshi sighed. Just thinking about what happened annoyed him greatly. "Hiko-san forgot to send in the paperwork to renew our funding."

"You guys ran out of money?" Kaoru started giggling. She was well aware that Aoshi's academic advisor, Hiko Seijuro was more interested in researching which restaurant served the best sake than doing what he considered menial paperwork.

Being a man of few words, Aoshi simply glared at Kaoru. Between his advisor and the fool that he shared an apartment with, it was a wonder that Aoshi was still sane.

"I don't care how it happened. I'm just glad that you're back." Kaoru dashed behind the counter to grab a cookie to munch on.

"So, how long are you going to be in town?" Kaoru was rummaging through a glass jar trying to find her favorite chocolate chip biscotti. They were in such demand that Kaoru had taken to hiding a couple in the jar with the scones. Triumphant, she returned to the table.

Aoshi contemplated ingesting more of Kaoru's tea just to avoid a conversation. There were more pressing issues at hand, like how he was going to provide for himself. He still received a stipend from the foundation that backed Hiko-san's research, but that was temporary. He would need to find other financial sources to survive.

Kaoru did not like being ignored. And Aoshi was doing just that. She banged her fist on the table, nearly up-ending the very same cup of tea she painstakingly made a few minutes earlier. Kaoru knew that she would get no response from the man sitting across from her. It just felt good to hit things every once in a while.

"Aoshi, are you going to answer me? First I make you a cup of that blasted tea that you love so much, and you don't even think enough to say thank you. Now, you are playing the I'm-too-deep-to-speak role. I don't know why I bother with you anymore!"

A tear had made its way to the outer corners of Kaoru's eyes. It delicately balanced on her lower lashes, like a jumper trying to decide if this would be the day that he ended it all. Just as the tear was about to plummet to its doom, Aoshi caught it. He loved her too much to be the reason that she shed a single tear.

Kaoru cheeks began to warm due to the contact with Aoshi. So much time had passed since he last reached out to her in that way. It was all too easy to forget that beneath the stoic façade was a passionate man who loved deeply, recklessly. She looked at Aoshi's face; it remained as it always did, uncommunicative. However, one glance into his ice blue eyes revealed all. He hurt because she did. It was then that she heard it.

"August."

Kaoru was confused. First, Aoshi was drying her tears and now he was randomly naming months. After all this time, she still could not wrap her head around how his mind worked.

"I'll be here until August."

Kaoru blinked repeatedly. Her Aoshi was going to be here for the better part of a year. She fought back the urge to jump into his arms, knowing that he frowned upon such open displays of affection. Kaoru simply smiled. This was one gift from the gods that she was ever so grateful for.

"So what are you going to do until then? I mean, there aren't many jobs for someone with a Master's degree in anthropology."

Aoshi pulled a familiar section of newspaper from the back pocket of his jeans. "I'll find something." Aoshi began perusing various help wanted ads. There had to be something that a professional student was qualified to do.

A backwards glance toward the door showed Kaoru that there were people waiting outside. A downward glance at her watch showed that it was three minutes to one. "Stay as long as you need Aoshi. I'm going to open the doors now."

Aoshi merely nodded his head, though he was disappointed at having to share Kaoru with the café's patrons. He cast a longing look at the back of Kaoru's head. In recent times, he had let her down one time too many. When Aoshi left for his latest research assignment, he hadn't bothered to even tell her that he was leaving. Kaoru awoke to a note taped to the refrigerator saying that he'd be back in a year. Granted, Aoshi attempted to make it up to her, but he wasn't sure that it was effective. Since Kaoru did not bring it up, he was hesitant to say anything.

Aoshi found that skimming the attention lines of the classifieds was proving to be an exercise in futility. Aoshi needed a position that paid well, but was not expecting a long-term commitment. Jobs like that were few and far between. If he were looking to be a waiter, short order cook or truck driver, Aoshi would easily be accommodated.

He tossed the paper onto the table. Frustrated, Aoshi ran his fingers through his hair. His stipend would only get him halfway through the winter. There had to be something somewhere. Reluctantly, he reviewed the help wanted notices once more.

_Wanted: Strong, inconspicuous individual to do surveillance and security at an upscale nightclub. Must be able to work competently around beautiful women. No experience necessary. Salary well above average. If interested, please come to 1515 Kobayashi Lane between the hours of 9 and 11 p.m. Serious inquiries only._

Aoshi studied the ad carefully. It couldn't hurt. He was a talented martial artist and a remarkable judge of character. Certainly those skills could prove useful in such a position. He circled the ad repeated so it would stand out later. Folding the newspaper back into its original rectangle, Aoshi put it back in his pocket.

Kaoru flitted about the coffee shop effortlessly. Every once in a while she would look over at Aoshi. It was nice having him around. She missed him so much and she knew he missed her, though he would never admit it. This time when Kaoru stole her glance, she noticed that he was no longer deeply engrossed in the classified ads. In fact, it looked like he was about to leave. She threw her apron behind the counter and made a beeline for her important person.

Kaoru tapped Aoshi on the shoulder. "Where ya headed?"

He looked into navy eyes. "I was going to get some rest before I check out this job I saw in the paper."

"The professional student plans on working like the rest of us." Kaoru giggled until she saw Aoshi's scowl appear. "Sorry, sorry. Where is this job?"

Aoshi pulled the paper from his pocket. He took a look at the address and returned it to the very same pocket.

"1515 Kobayashi Lane."

"Did you say 1515 Kobayashi Lane?"

Aoshi nodded.

Kaoru felt laughter traveling up from her gut. She tried to suppress it. She tried to stem the waves of amusement that were threatening to crash through her lips. Kaoru was willing herself to keep it in.

"Would you care to enlighten me?" Aoshi was not pleased with Kaoru's excessive enjoyment of the situation.

Kaoru took slow deliberate breaths. She knew Aoshi well enough to know that he did not like being laughed at. Kaoru shook her head many times before she found her voice.

"It's…nothing." Kaoru inhaled deeply for the last time. "I was just surprised that you found something so quickly." She rummaged through her pants pockets until a single key emerged.

"You probably don't have a place to stay yet." Kaoru placed the key in Aoshi's hand.

He stared at the molded piece of metal. Aoshi never thought that she would open up her home to him, especially after the way that he left. The tiniest of smiles appeared on his face briefly. He was so grateful to have her in his life. Kaoru stood by him, believing in him when everyone else thought he was a lost cause. She never forsook him.

"I can't," Aoshi attempted to return the key to its rightful owner.

"Shinomori Aoshi take the damned key! What, did you plan on pending the rest of the day trying to find a place? Just go to my flat and rest." As much as Kaoru loved Aoshi, his stubborn streak left much to be desired. Before he could object further, Kaoru shoved Aoshi, still holding the key, out of the café.

Aoshi looked back to see the door rapidly close behind him. Fingering the key, he contemplated his next move. Taking Kaoru up on her offer would definitely make things easier. His luggage was still in Hiko's office and Kaoru's flat was close to the university. Aoshi figured that should retrieve his things before Hiko traded them for sake.

* * *

Misao sat, randomly changing channels, in search of something worth watching. How could there be so many channels and nothing on television? She threw the remote to the empty side of the bed. Flopping backward, Misao lost herself in the large down pillows that decorated Enishi's king-sized bed. The cream comforter with matching pillows made for a tranquil scene, quite the opposite of the place she was headed.

Misao got out of the bed and walked over to the mirror. She silently winced as she got a real good look at the bruise Enishi left on her cheek. The swelling had gone down, but it was still a colorful mess. Dabbing a bit of concealer on it, Misao shrugged. She had to leave soon if she wanted to make it to work on time. She already called out at Tia Maria; she could not afford to blow off Blu Flayme as well.

Gathering her clothes, Misao knew that she could not stay there forever; she didn't want to. It didn't matter that she was sleeping on a mattress in an apartment without electricity. The drafty rattrap was her solace, her home. The wind may have gotten in through the shoddy windows, but the thick wooden door blocked thoughts of Enishi. Allowing Misao to stay the night was just Enishi's way of making up for hitting her the night before.

She looked about the apartment, making sure she left nothing behind. Enishi was always particular about that. Misao never understood why he was so anal about it. She remembered the last time she left someone behind. Enishi had gone into the bathroom to get his glasses and that's when he saw it, a thin black hairpin. Misao had spent the night there after work. Opting for a messy bun that evening, her glossy black hair was home to many a hairpin. Apparently one decided to make Enishi's sink it's new home. The seemingly insignificant item sent him into a frenzy. Enishi stormed into Tia Maria ranting about personal space and Misao's lack of respect for it. He called her every kind of worthless loser imaginable. Kaoru was about to jump over the counter and let Enishi know who the real loser was. Misao simply shook her head, allowing Enishi get it all out. It was better for her when there was an audience. All he did was yell when other people were around. As long as no one provoked him further, yelling would be all he did. The outburst ended as quickly as it began, with Enishi making a swift exit to avoid the numerous sets of eyes that were glued to him and Misao.

Sure that nothing had been left behind, she walked out the door making sure to lock it behind her. Misao walked down the hall to the elevator. She gave it a quick glance and realized that there wasn't time to wait for it. Misao dashed down the stairs.

Azusa heard the commotion in the stairwell and immediately knew what to do. He walked over to the door and held it open. True to form, Misao came barreling out of the stairwell and through the front door. Azusa shook his head and laughed. It was like this every time Misao spent the night.

* * *

Aoshi turned the collar of his black leather jacket up. It was only mid-November, but it was unseasonably cold. He walked down the street, following the detailed directions that Kaoru had given. Aoshi wondered what was so amusing about this job interview. She had been snickering while she wrote the directions. He made a mental note to ask her about it once he got back.

Aoshi stood at the corner of Sakura Boulevard and Hiromi Avenue, trying to figure out which way lead to Kobayashi Lane. Kaoru's directions weren't as clear as they should have been. Most people were at home enjoying family time before going to bed, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for directions.

Aoshi cursed under his breath. It was already a quarter to nine. Even though the ad said to come between nine and eleven, Aoshi did not want to have to be there all night waiting for an interview. Standing at the intersection, he looked to his left and then to his right. Neither end of Hiromi Avenue seemed familiar. The night was turning out to be a big waste of time. He decided to head back to Kaoru's flat; the neighborhood in which he was wandering didn't seem all that safe.

Walking back up Sakura Boulevard, Aoshi re-read Kaoru's instructions. Certainly they were not so convoluted that he could not decipher them. He had translated ancient Aramaic. A set of directions should not pose such a problem.

"I must have angered some deity for this to be happening now." Aoshi tossed the useless paper away.

"Excuse me, I think you dropped something."

Aoshi turned around slowly, with his fists clenched, startled that someone spoke to him. As he prepared to thrash the person behind him, Aoshi noticed that a woman, a really short woman, was holding his crumpled directions in her hand.

"Sorry."

Misao shook her head. She had been watching him stare at buildings on the street trying to find his way. Part of her wanted to help him. Another part warned that if Enishi was anywhere in the vicinity, she could be in serious trouble. Another look at the man was all she needed. Tall, strong with broad shoulders and coal black hair. His eyes were shrouded by overgrown bangs, but that did not diminish his striking looks. Enishi be damned, she was speaking to this one. Misao would worry about the backlash later.

"You look lost. Where ya headed?" Misao began closing the gap between her and Aoshi.

Aoshi removed the paper from her hand. "Supposedly, I'm going to 1515 Kobayashi Lane."

Misao smirked, and Aoshi noticed. He was growing weary of this reaction every time he mentioned the address. Misao grabbed the paper back from Aoshi. The directions weren't wrong, but they weren't right either.

"What you need to do is go back to the corner of Sakura and Hiromi. Make the right and go up two blocks. At the fish market, make a left. Look for a metallic gray sign with a neon blue flame in the upper left corner. That will be 1515 Kobayashi Lane."

Aoshi was fervently writing the directions that Misao dictated. He looked at his watch. It was only five minutes after nine. He would not be as early as he planned, but at least he'd make it there.

Misao kept her eye on Aoshi until he was well out of sight, wondering why he was going to the Blu Flayme. He obviously was not a patron. He did not even seem like the type to frequent such an establishment.

Recalling her dark stranger grumbling about the time, Misao knew that she did not have much time to get to work. In fact, she was already late. Misao decided that the shortcut through the back alley, though not the safest, was the fastest route to the club.

Misao surveyed the area before she headed back there. The last thing she wanted was for some random person to attack her. The only people that were in the area were shop owners closing up for the night and straggling restaurant customers. Adjusting the straps on her backpack, Misao took gave the street one last look. She began sprinting through the shadows, careful not to make a sound. As the shadows dissipated, Misao knew that she was but a stone's throw from the Blu Flayme. Misao's backpack prevented any further advancement. Without looking back, she gave the bag a good tug attempting to free herself.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Misao suddenly found herself free to move again. She slowly turned to face her attacker.

"Enishi, I'm already late for work." She resumed her walk to her place of employment.

Enishi pushed his glasses up on his nose. "It funny how you had more than enough time to talk to that awkwardly tall guy."

Misao lost her breath. He had been watching her. How long had it been going on? Was there anyplace that she could escape his reach?

"You… were watching me?"

Misao started slowly walking backwards, increasing the distance between she and Enishi while decreasing the distance between she and the Blu Flayme's bouncers. With each step Misao's resolve grew stronger. She had accepted much while involved with Enishi, but this was too much. Wasn't it enough that she had put her search for stardom on hold because he was afraid of how fame would change her? Wasn't it enough that she rationalized his erratic mood swings? Wasn't it enough that she endured the beatings and public humiliation without so much as a word? She withstood it all for the sake of misplaced love and loyalty. All Misao had, all she treasured was her solitude. But, Enishi defiled that as well. She simply shook her head as she turned away. There were about thirty yards to the door and a group of bouncers in Misao's line of sight. Enishi would not risk a confrontation with Shikijo and Hyottoko at the door. Misao remembered the last time Enishi tangoed with Shikijo. That was not an experience that Enishi would like to repeat anytime soon.

"Misao--" Enishi's voice sounded hoarse, though he hadn't said much. He reached out to touch Misao.

"No, not this time. I have to go to work." Misao knew that this display of strength would not last much longer. If she did not get away from Enishi soon, she'd be sucked back in.

Enishi grabbed Misao's shoulder preventing her from taking another step.

He spun her around so he could look in her eyes, so he could see the lies forming.

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw you. You were touching him." Enishi ran his fingers through his hair, a move reserved for when he was starting to panic. He had seen how Misao looked at that guy, the way that she moved closer to him. She hadn't made a move like that toward him in months. Enishi could see what was happening, even if Misao would not acknowledge it.

"Enishi, I was just giving him directions." Misao could her the desperation in Enishi's voice. Her compulsion to soothe overtook her need to leave. The cycle had started again. Misao wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him close.

"Misao!" Shikijo yelled. In his opinion, Misao had spent more than enough time with Enishi. On top of that, she was fifteen minutes late.

Misao gave Enishi a quick peck on the cheek. "I have to go. I'm late as it is." Brushing his bangs from his eyes, Misao wondered how things always ended up like this.

Enishi ran his hand down Misao's side. "Will I see you later?" She nodded and released Enishi from her embrace.

"MISAO!!" Shikijo yelled her name with more fervor than before.

"Enishi--" Misao looked over her shoulder, but Enishi was nowhere to be seen. It was then that she saw him. From a half a block away she could tell it was the same guy to whom she had given directions. He was scanning the buildings for a neon sign with a blue flame in the upper left corner. The night wasstarting to look better.

* * *

_What did you think? I'm begging you to let me know. I know for a fact that there are a slew of Misao/Aoshi fans out there. If no one else reviews, you should._

_Until next time,_

_Deadly Diva_


	4. Chapter 4

Aoshi looked about the business he just entered. He now realized why Kaoru and the girl at the corner snickered when he mentioned the address. One of them could have told him that he was walking into an establishment that specialized in the degradation and exploitation of the female form. Aoshi looked around to see just how bad this strip club was. The ratio of security personnel to patron was impressive. There was a respectable distance between the stage and the nearest drunken slob. Wait, there were no drunken slobs. Aoshi noticed that some people were visibly intoxicated, but none were drunk enough to be belligerent.

Aoshi considered walking out. He had pride, morals and standards. He had high standards. Ethically, he could not study great female leaders and their contributions to what is known as civilization and work at the Blu Flayme. A slight cramping of Aoshi's abdominal region caused the principled young man to rethink his mental rantings. Morals were great, but they would not fill his belly.

Aoshi slowly approached the bar. It had been so long since he was around so much alcohol. Aoshi swore off all manner of strong drink after a party his roommate brought him to freshman year. He didn't remember much of that night. The only clear memory he had was waking up naked on the couch of his shared apartment.

Aoshi looked at his watch and sighed. It was a quarter after nine. He detested being late. The bartender seemed occupied with a couple of the girls who had graced the stage earlier.

"Excuse me." Aoshi attempted to wave down the bartender. "Excuse me!"

"Well look what we have here. I never thought I'd see you here."

* * *

Misao paced the floor looking for a customer in need of a fresh drink. The night was unusually slow. It wasn't dead by any stretch of the imagination, but Misao was accustomed to barely being able to make her way through the crowd. There was a healthy amount of people enjoying the show, but only a handful of regulars surrounded the stage. That wasn't going to do Misao any good. She needed them to drink, not to stare at Megumi as she gyrated across the stage. As the music faded, she began her search anew. Misao could see a middle aged man looking about. She made a beeline for the thirsty patron before another waitress could make a move.

"What can I get you?" Misao held a palm-sized notebook in her hand.

"I'll take a house draft."

She nodded as she scribbled the order down. Misao looked over the man's slightly balding head. She could see Megumi walking the floor after her set. The pasties and thong that she wore during her routine were replaced with a shimmery red midriff baring halter top and black shorts that left the bottom half of her buttocks exposed. As she walked, Megumi collected tips that the men weren't able to give her during the performance. She made stripping seem like such a noble profession. Megumi nodded, smiled and graciously thanked the patrons for their support.

Megumi stopped suddenly at the bar. Misao could see her throw her head back, a sure sign that she was cackling in some poor man's ear. Megumi took a step to the side. Misao saw her dark stranger standing scandalously close to Takani Megumi. Megumi's hand was on his shoulder, like they were more than casually familiar.

Misao's brow furrowed as she watched the exchange between the two. She huffed, reasoning that she had no legitimate reason to be upset. She didn't even know his name.

"Excuse miss. Are you going to get my beer?"

Misao's train of though had effectively been broken. She smiled meekly her customer. "Right away."

* * *

"Megumi, what are you doing here?" The sight of his roommate's girlfriend in such a state of undress brought a slight blush to Aoshi's cheeks.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Aoshi fished the classified section of out his jean pocket yet again.

"I see. You're here for the head of security job." Megumi placed her hand on Aoshi's shoulder as she leaned into him. As he shrugged her away, she laughed. Aoshi never did like people touching him.

"Head of security?" Aoshi scratched his head. He was only going to be in town for nine months at the most. Aoshi felt that it would not be right to take such a position knowing that he did not plan to stay long. "This isn't going to work."

"What isn't going to work?"

Aoshi looked over to see a woman in a yellow kimono. He sighed. "I came here to apply for the security position, but Megumi just told me that it's for the head of security. I'm a student on an extended break. It would not be fair to take such a job when I'm only here for a short time."

The woman sat on a barstool next to Aoshi. She cut her eyes toward Megumi. Megumi simply nodded and continued her walk about the club.

"So are you from around here?"

Aoshi remained silent. Whoever this woman was, he did not feel compelled to speak to her.

"I see, the strong silent type." She placed her hand on Aoshi's shoulder, similar to the way Megumi did. "Let's see if a drink will loosen you up. Chou! Let me get two kamikazes."

"No thank you." Aoshi quickly blurted out.

"So you do speak." The woman raised an eyebrow.

"I don't drink," Aoshi stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't drink?"

"No. I have no tolerance for alcohol."

"I see." She stood up. Though she only came up to Aoshi's chest, something about this woman made him uneasy. She unzipped his jacket and ran her hands across his chest. An appreciative moan was heard. She licked her lips slowly, like a predator who successfully snared its prey.

Aoshi found himself frozen in place. His mind was screaming to run, but his body would not comply. This woman's brazen acts had effectively disabled every defense he had. Yet he wasn't aroused, he was perturbed.

"Kamatari, how many times do I have to tell you not to molest the customers?" Misao approached Kamatari and adjusted his kimono. There was not the slightest hint of remorse in his eyes. He rather enjoyed feeling up unsuspecting young men. "At least make sure everything is in place. You don't want to give the man a heart attack, do you?"

Misao grabbed the beer that she was waiting for and walked away.

Aoshi eyed the diminutive woman carefully. She was the same one who had given him directions earlier. Her petite frame, though not as curvy as Megumi's, was enough to keep his attention in her short pleated skirt and form fitting tank top. Aoshi found himself wondering how she kept her balance while walking in such high heels. The sway of her hips was hypnotic; he couldn't look away.

"Her name is Misao."

"Huh?" Aoshi did not like the fact that his attentions had been diverted.

"That girl, her name is Misao." Kamatari reached behind the bar and retrieved a pad with applications on it. "Fill this out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh my. You must think I'm quite rude. I am Honjou Kamatari. I own the Blu Flayme." Kamatari turned to walk away, but stopped after taking a few steps. He looked over his shoulder. Aoshi seemed dumbstruck.

"Hey handsome, fill out the application. We'll see if there is a way to come to a mutually beneficial understanding." Kamatari winked and went off in search of his favorite waitress.

Aoshi stared at the application. Kamatari had just heard that he was not willing to make a long-term commitment to the job, and still insisted that he complete the application. He pulled a pen out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket, figuring it could not hurt. The worst that could happen was that Kamatari would turn him down.

As Aoshi busied himself writing his full name and any aliases, a glass slid in front of him. He looked up to see a tall blond man with a painful hairstyle standing in front of him.

"I don't drink."

"I heard. It's cranberry juice, neat."

Aoshi reached in his pocket to pay for the non-alcoholic beverage, but the bartender shook his head.

"It's on the house." He gathered a couple of empty glasses that had been abandoned on the bar. "All employees drink free, even if it is just cranberry juice."

"I think you have made a mistake."

Chou held up his hand. "Listen, Kamatari does not give out applications. Anyone who has been told to fill out the app has the job if they want it."

He roughly wiped his hands on the apron that adorned his waist. Once dry, Chou extended his right hand to Aoshi. "Welcome to the Blu Flayme. The name's Chou."

Aoshi shook Chou's hand. It was obvious all the blow-drying had affected the lanky bartender's brain. "Shinomori Aoshi."

"You might want to fill the rest of that out. We need someplace to send your remains."

Aoshi shot a confused look at Chou.

"You mean you haven'tnoticed never mind. You'll see soon enough."

Aoshi felt a slender arm snake around his waist.

"Have you finished filling it out yet? I want to show you a few things."

Aoshi could feel his skin crawling as he heard Chou choke down a laugh. He may not have known what to expect when he entered the Blu Flayme, but being sexually assaulted definitely did not cross his mind. Aoshi tried to put some space between he and Kamatari, but the gap disappeared quickly. He soon noticed that a hand that had been still near his knee was gradually traveling upward. His mind was reeling at the raunchy behavior of the club owner. Aoshi's face betrayed none of the disorientation that was threatening to overtake him.

Chou admired Aoshi's resolve. The other applicants were either in hysterics or trying to get Kamatari in an empty stock room at this point in the game. Aoshi merely stood still as if nothing were happening. Kamatari nearly had little Aoshi in the palm of her hand when Chou intervened.

"Boss man, I think he's had enough."

Aoshi's left eyebrow twitched slightly. Certainly he had heard wrong. Chou was just one of those people who called everyone man. There was no way that Kamatari wasn't a woman. There was no way that he had just been molested by a man.

"Hmpf." Kamatari folded his arms across his chest. Aoshi took a moment to look at Kamatari. She had a really strong jaw, but some women take after their fathers. It proves nothing. Letting his eyes travel lower, he saw a slight bulge at Kamatari's throat. Aoshi rationalized that Kamatari must have a cold, thus explaining the lump in the throat and the raspy voice.

"Didn't I tell you to put that thing away!" Misao leaned over the bar near Aoshi to grab a couple of napkins. Yahiko had managed to splash Misao withthe rum and Coke that she was kind enoiugh to bring him.

As Kamatari readjusted his kimono, Aoshi saw him tuck something away. His left eyebrow twitched again. He had just been violated by a man. Aoshi could feel the bile traveling up his throat. He did the only thing that he could do to prevent an awkward scene…

Misao felt her body being turned around. In a matter of seconds, she found herself face to chest with her stranger, the same stranger that was quite cozy with Megumi not too long ago.

"What do you" Misao's tirade was cut short by a pair of lips covering her own. Aoshi's arms has rendered her immobile. She opened her mouth to protest, but found that her stranger was not only handsome and spontaneous, but also opportunistic. Aoshi's tongue slipped in to deepen the kiss, with no objection from Misao. Then, just a suddenly as it began, it was over.

"I'm sorry." As he pulled away, Aoshi realized who he kissed. Lowering his head, he quickly zipped up his jacket and made a swift exit, leaving Misao and Kamatari wanting more.

Misao leaned against the bar. She could not remember the last time a man left her breathless. It was like a switch had been thrown in her brain. Her heart was racing and she could still feel his arms around her, so warm, so strong. "Damn, who was he?"

Kamatari picked up the application Aoshi left behind. "Shinomori Aoshi, the Blu Flayme's new head of security."

* * *

_What did you think? I have a vague idea of where I going with this and a really cool person, who knows who she is, has been a great help. Somewhere there's a law against reading fan fiction and nor leaving feedback..._

_Until next time,  
Deadly Diva_


	5. Chapter 5

Enishi clenched his glass of imported ale. Surely his eyes had deceived him. Anger was rolling off him in white-hot waves. One of Kamatari's more reserved waitresses tried to engage Enishi in conversation, but his menacing scowl doused any hope of that. She quickly put as much space as she could between herself and the irritated man. 

Enishi was never thrilled about Misao working at the Blu Flayme, but she assured him that all that she did was serve drinks. He berated himself for not seeing this coming. First, Misao paraded her naked form for all to see and now she offers her body to some random man. It would not be long before she was selling herself to the highest bidder. Why couldn't Misao see that he did not want her to end up like Tomoe? Enishi just wanted to protect her from those who would exploit her. He wanted to protect her from herself. Didn't Misao understand that treacherous and unscrupulous men were lurking to take advantage of her goodness, her kindness? If he were not there to look after for her, she would have fallen prey to their devices long ago.

His glare followed Aoshi's rapidly retreating form. Seeing his black coat rush through the door, Enishi knew the opportunity to enlighten him had passed, but there was always Misao. Enishi slowly sipped his beer. He knew that confronting Misao now would be inviting Shikijo and Hyottoko to sever his head from his body. Enishi shuddered at the thought of fighting those two. Misao was bound to show up at the apartment sooner than later; he decided to wait until then.

* * *

"Head of security? I thought that was Shikijo's job." Misao threw back a shot of Black Haus. She could still feel Aoshi all around her, pulling her in. A light trace of his cologne lingered in the air. Misao could not place the scent. It was smooth and calming, yet inviting. It reminded her of a temple in the spring. She inhaled deeply not wanting to forget. 

"Shikijo is damn good, but he isn't capable of doing what this Aoshi can."

"And what is that Kamatari?" Misao arched an eyebrow. She was more than a little scared for Aoshi.

A most feminine giggle escaped Kamatari's lips. Thoughts of Aoshi tied to a bed wearing nothing but what he was born with brought a wicked smile to Kamatari's face. Misao knew that look too well.

"Kamatari! Get you mind out of the gutter and answer my question."

"Shinomori Aoshi can blend into crowds better than Shikijo. It's also a plus that he doesn't drink." Kamatari looked over Aoshi's application. He reached over the bar to grab the telephone. After a few seconds, he huffed and slammed the receiver down. Misao gave Kamatari a curious look.

"What's going on now?"

"I was just calling tall, dark and sexy to tell him to report to work tomorrow. No one answered."

"Kamatari, he just left. Give him a chance to get home before you start stalking him."

* * *

"Can you check the popcorn? I'll be out in a second." 

Kaoru was scrambling to find some cute and casual to wear. She didn't want to look like she was trying to hard, but she didn't want to look like a bum either. Silently she cursed the fates. Kaoru found herself standing in the middle of her bedroom wearing a white tank top and black low-rise briefs. She was holding a pair of plaid boxers and a pair of pale orange yoga pants. Ninety seconds of internally debating which would be the more alluring choice was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Get that for me." Kaoru called through the door. She quickly pulled on the yoga pants. The slim cut would show off the results of her kendo lessons while not seeming overtly suggestive. A messy ponytail completed her girl next door look.

Aoshi eyed the man who opened the door. Aoshi wanted to know who in the hell was he and why was he there. One girly man was enough for him. It was quite obvious to Aoshi that he had angered a female deity during one of his research projects. What other reason could there be for the recent barrage of short effeminate men? Utilizing the height difference to avoid eye contact, Aoshi walked past the diminutive red head.

Kaoru walked out of her room and into the great silence that took over her living room. She shook her head. Some things really never change.

"Why are you being so rude? Say hello." Kaoru walked into the kitchen to get the popcorn.

Aoshi glared at the back of Kaoru's head incredulously. He didn't even know who this person was. Why should he speak? If anything, this random redhead owed him an explanation.

"I can feel you glaring Shinomori Aoshi. Say hello to Kenshin!"

Aoshi blinked. This was Kenshin? For some reason, he was expecting someone bigger, more imposing. This man looked like he couldn't hurt a fly, much less be a student of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Hiko Seijuro was a master of that fighting style, so Aoshi assumed that Kenshin was physically similar to Hiko-san. By the looks of things, Kaoru was obviously the dominant one in that relationship.

Kenshin extended his hand to Aoshi. "So you are the big brother Miss Kaoru speaks so highly of. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Miss…Kaoru?" Aoshi raised an eyebrow as his hand met Kenshin's.

"Kenshin, how many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" Kaoru emerged from the kitchen holding a bowl of popcorn and a six pack of beer. Actually, it was four beers and two ginger ales. Kenshin dashed to Kaoru's aid and relieved her of the bowl. After placing it on the table, he discreetly made his way to the bathroom, leaving the dark haired siblings to talk.

"Miss Kaoru?"

"Don't start Aoshi. He's a really old soul." Kaoru pulled a beer from the pack. "How was your interview?"

Aoshi's eyes narrowed. "You could have told me what I was walking into."

"What fun would that have been?" Kaoru smirked, much to her big brother's dismay. "So…how did it go?"

"I got groped by a man dressed as a woman, kissed some waitress I met on the street and got the hell out. By the way, your directions were worthless."

"Groped!" Kaoru attempted to stop the impulse to laugh, but the thought of a transsexual feeling up her big brother was too much for her to ignore.

Instead of glaring daggers, Aoshi let Kaoru get the laughter out of her system. If it had happened to anyone else, he would have thought the situation was mildly amusing.

Kaoru stopped laughing long enough to ask one important question. "So, did you get the job?"

Aoshi, intentionally dodging the question posed, eyed the couch cautiously. He then eyed his sister. Her hair was wet, like it had just been washed. He circled the couch looking for anything out of the ordinary, a misplaced cushion, discolorations. Seeing none of those, or anything that remotely pointed to extracurricular activity, he sat down.

"Aoshi, did you get the job or not?"

Aoshi grabbed a ginger ale. "My things are in the extra room?"

Before Kaoru could answer her brother, he was walking to her spare bedroom. While making his way to the room, he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Kaoru is waiting for you."

* * *

Kenshin was about to express his gratitude when he realized that Aoshi hadn't stayed around long enough to receive it. 

Walking aimlessly down the street, Misao let her tears falls unabated. A sharp cold wind blew across her cheek. She lifted her hood, attempting to defend herself from the assault of the elements. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Misao quickened her pace. She only had a few more blocks to go, then she could rest.

How many times had she told herself that it was not going to happen again? How many times has she vowed not to let herself get pulled into his chaos? How many times had she taken this walk, swearing the entire time that she would never go back?

Misao's head had a plethora of questions that her heart refused to answer. There was no rationalizing staying in a situation that has proven itself to be detrimental. The internal argument continued as she recalled the evening's earlier events.

"Makimachi-san, what a pleasant surprise." Azusa saw Misao approaching the building and made sure that he held the door open for her.

A slight smile made its way to Misao's face as she greeted Azusa. She knew better than to linger in conversation. Enishi was waiting for her, and he had figured out the amount of time it should take her to get from the Blu Flayme to his apartment door.

As she waited for the elevator, Misao's thoughts drifted to Aoshi. Kamatari seemed adamant about having the devastatingly handsome man as the new head of security. Misao wondered if her boss could pull it off. He had run out of the club like the hounds of hell were at his heels. It would take more than Kamatari's usual sweet-talk to get this one to come back.

The soft ding of the elevator announced Misao's arrival on Enishi's floor. She apprehensively exited the lift and made her way down the hall. Her mind shouted that there was still time to leave. Enishi hadn't seen her yet. Escape was still an option.

The fifth door down on the right hand side was her destination. Misao stood in front of it for a few minutes, staring at it. Aoshi's kiss still lingered on her lips. She dared not face Enishi with such thoughts running through her mind. Looking down at her watch, Misao knew that she only had one more minute before Enishi would throw a fit about her inability to be punctual. She raised her fist to knock on the door, but it opened before she could do so.

Enishi stood in the doorway wearing white drawstring pants with a fitted white ribbed tank top. His white blond hair was damp, as if towel dried after a refreshing shower. Bare feet, coupled with an unobstructed view of his clear green eyes, completed his casually sexy look. Misao felt her heart flutter while her mind reiterated that this man was not to be trusted.

Enishi smiled as he drew Misao into his embrace. His next move, though surprising, was not entirely unexpected. He pulled her hair so hard that her neck snapped back causing her skull to come in contact with her back.

"I see the whore decided to show up…"

* * *

The knocking became louder, more insistent. Aoshi approached the door, unsure if he should open it. Thinking it a prank, he hesitated. The knocks became bangs, hard and forceful as if the person on the other side was trying to break down the door. He looked about the living room for any sign that the banging woke Kaoru. 

What he saw nearly broke him. She was a slight young woman, petite and thin. Her shoulders were slouched, appearing to have lost all semblance of life and her face was obstructed by sheets of ink colored hair.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought this was my friend's apartment." Misao turned slowly, defeat emanating from her every pore.

"Wait." Aoshi's voice, though soft, commanded her attention. "This is Kaoru's apartment. I'm just staying here for a while. Please, come in."

Misao, with her eyes on the floor, walked into the only solace that she had left. Shuffling her feet, she made her way to the couch. Misao exhaled deeply. She wondered how many times she would have to run to Kaoru's apartment. Fresh tears fell from her eyes.

"I knew it. I knew I should not have gone there, but I did it anyway. How stupid am I?"

"Misao."

She looked up to see a concerned, though sleepy, Kaoru. Misao lowered her head into her hands, all the while muttering incoherently. Kaoru knew this routine all too well. She quickly sat beside Misao and wrapped her arms around the distraught young woman.

Aoshi stood in the corner and watched as his sister consoled Misao. Silently, he wondered what could have happened to make her show up at such an indecent hour. He soon had his answer as Kaoru brushed Misao's hair away from her face.

"What the fuck happened!" Kaoru, who had been fighting off her sleep, was fully awake and out for blood. Misao gave her a look that spoke volumes. "That bastard. I'll kill him myself."

Aoshi was disturbed by the sight before him. Misao's lips were swollen to what he assumed were twice their normal size. One of her eyes was blackened and swollen shut, as if she just finished a twelve round boxing match. He also didn't miss the way that she winced when Kaoru hugged her. Someone had worked Misao over real good.

"….that's all there is to it. You'll stay here." Kaoru clamped her hands on Misao's shoulders, resisting the urge to shake some sense into her.

"Kaoru, I can't. I just can't. Besides, you seem to have a full house as it is." Misao leaned in close to Kaoru's ear. "I didn't know you had it in you. Does Kenshin know about Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody."

"Misao! He's my brother."

Misao leaned back into the couch. "Figures. You never have anything interesting going on."

"Such a sordid mind for one so young." Kaoru crossed her legs Indian style on the couch and turned to face Misao. "Are you going to tell me why his royal psychopath went off this time?" The light in Misao's eyes dimmed as she readied herself to tale her tale.

Aoshi's eyes widened slightly. Someone they knew did this to Misao? Why was it allowed to go on? He intended to have a long conversation with his baby sister about the moral and ethical responsibilities involved with being a friend.

"He was upset that I was kissing some guy, but that's not what happened. I was standing at the bar, waiting for Chou to make my drink orders, when some guy that Kamatari molested kissed me. I didn't initiate it."

Kaoru could see the rationalization forming in Misao's mind.

"I tried to explain that to him," Misao continued, "but he would not listen. He started calling me a whore and then…"

"You don't have to say anymore." Kaoru didn't have the stomach for a blow by blow account of Enishi's rage. The evidence of his madness was literally written all over Misao's face. "I'm going to grab you some nightclothes."

Kaoru stood up slowly and walked towards her bedroom. After taking a few steps, she looked back at Misao. She had turned on the TV and was bouncing to some cheesy music playing in an infomercial. That damn cheerful mask was back up, as if that was going to fool her. She was in pain, and not just from the beating. Kaori sighed as continued walking. Enishi was going to kill Misao one of these days, unless someone stepped in.

Aoshi fell back against the wall as he process all that he had seen and heard. Bar. Chou. Molestation by the hands of one named Kamatari. An unplanned kiss. Aoshi nearly threw up as he realized that he was the reason that this young woman was severely beaten. One reckless move nearly cost the girl her life. Aoshi's mind was now reeling, trying to recall what she looked like before that Enishi fellow got his hands on her. As he recalled his short visit to the Blu Flayme, Aoshi remembered the waitress that he used to prove a point. He had been watching her the entire time he was there. She seemed so much taller at the club. It was then that he noticed that she was wearing a simple pair of canvas sneaker and not the five inch platforms he had seen her in prior. How could anyone think of beating such a small woman? She was a threat to no one. His conscience screamed for him to protect her. His mind screamed for him not to get involved. Aoshi sighed. He didn't know what to do.

Kaoru reentered the living room holding a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt. "Here Misao. Put these on."

Aoshi took that as he cue to leave. Walking away, he tripped. As he looked down to see the offending object, Aoshi got the answer he was looking for before - his copy of the classifieds with Kamatari's ad circled.

_I know, I know. I need to be shot for taking so long. What can I say? Life, it is a bitch. I just hope that there is still an audience for this fic after such a long hiatus. You know what you should do, what I hope beyond hope that you do. The question nowiswill you do it?_

_Until next time,  
__Deadly Diva_


	6. Chapter 6

"Shinomori-san," a voice in Aoshi's headset rang out.

"You do realize that you don't need to yell. That was the purpose of the headset." Aoshi's frustration was barely evident in his voice.

"Sorry okashira. Misao has arrived." Shikijo replied in a much more tolerable volume.

Aoshi looked at his watch. She was late again. He still did not understand how Misao managed to keep her job. If it had been any other waitress, Kamatari would have fired them after the third occurrence. It seemed that nearly everyone had a soft spot for Misao. Even Aoshi had to reluctantly admit, if only to himself, that there was something about the dynamic young woman that compelled people to love and protect her.

He sighed, still trying to figure out why he was working at the Blu Flayme. His conscience kicked him in the head, reminding him of a short energetic young woman whom he had put in danger with his thoughtless actions. After what he saw that night on Kaoru's couch, Aoshi was not going to let Misao get hurt again because of his negligence. For that very reason, Aoshi insisted that Kamatari install security cameras shortly after accepting the position three weeks prior. He brought Misao's image up on the screen. She was still wearing her sunglasses with the pale purple lenses to cover up her healing eye. Other than that, Misao looked as good as new. He virtually followed her until she entered the dressing room. Aoshi stood up, adjusted his earpiece and stretched his muscles. He prepared himself to do what he had done every night Misao worked. Aoshi made a point of walking the floor whenever Misao was in the building. The staff had been told that Yukishiro Enishi was no longer welcome, yet he took no chances.

Since the last time she was forced to seek solace at Kaoru's apartment, Misao found that she had a new, and more importantly safe, place to stay. At first she refused. Aoshi was already in the spare bedroom and she did not want to be an inconvenience to her best friend or her best friend's brother. Much to Misao's surprise, it had been Aoshi's idea that she move in. In fact, he insisted. He silently accepted the couch in exchange for Misao's safety. After that, things began to change. Upon Aoshi's suggestion, Misao finally filed a complaint against Enishi. It was not difficult to get a protective order issued once the judge saw Misao's injuries. Enishi was not allowed within five hundred feet of Misao. Neither was he to go to Tia Maria or the Blu Flayme. Even without the restrictions of the protective order, Enishi would not have been allowed in either establishment. Seta Soujiro, owner of Tia Maria, had something in common with Honjou Kamatari. He was not fond of Yukishiro Enishi. Enishi had been the cause of many, if not all, of Misao's excessive sick days. Though Misao never explicitly told him of Enishi's behavior, he had heard from customers who had witnessed it. It did not take much convincing for Soujiro to fully comply with the protective order. Slowly, Misao's life was beginning to make it way back to normal.

Sunglasses discarded, Misao sat in the dressing room staring at her reflection. The discoloration around her eye was fading, but still required a bit of makeup to conceal. Misao dabbed concealer on the bruise and covered it with the thick stage make-up that the dancers used. She rummaged through her bag to find her hairbrush and her curling iron. Since dating Enishi, Misao had mastered the art of re-directive hairstyling. In fact, she had become quite adept at disguising the origin of her bruises. As her hair became a mass of loose ringlets, Misao scanned the dressing room for the evening's attire – a black leather cat suit. An idea promptly took root. Misao was going to take things one step further tonight. She drew a large star over her bruised eye and colored it black and purple. Feeling the star was missing something, Misao dug through her make-up case for a package of body jewels. She outlined the border of the star with rhinestones. Getting a look at her face, she giggled. It had been a while since Misao could look at herself and laugh.

Every testosterone laced gaze followed Misao's lithe form as she walked the floor. Though nothing was exposed save a small vee of skin below her collarbone, Aoshi felt an overwhelming urge to cover Misao with a large beige trench coat.

"Shinomori-san, are you alright?"

Aoshi had been so focused on Misao that he had not noticed Kamatari approaching. He made mental a note never to become so distracted.

"Funny… now that I think about it, you were similarly occupied when I met you."

"Explain."

"Nothing." Kamatari smiled at his head of security. He knew the reason Aoshi gave for taking the job. He wanted to keep Misao safe, to protect her from the fiend that was Enishi. Kamatari remembered Aoshi explaining that the kiss he gave her the first time they met was the catalyst for Enishi's latest rampage. For that reason, Aoshi felt honor-bound to protect Misao. Somehow, Kamatari couldn't help but think there was more to Aoshi's interest in Misao than a sense of duty.

* * *

Misao always felt great after her dance class. Something about pushing her body beyond its limits brought out the best in her. After zipping up her jacket, Misao waved to Komagata Yumi, the owner of the studio. Misao still had a few hours before she was to report to the Blu Flayme for her shift. She planned on taking the long way home, just to enjoy the sights the city afforded.

"I'll see you Thursday Yumi-san."

Misao turned and saw the one person she was not expecting.

"You're not supposed to be this close to me. I have a protective order that says so."

"It's only against the law if you tell on me."

Misao took a few steps back. Enishi was too close. She needed room to breathe, to think.

"Misao, please. I'm sorry. I know I went too far. It's just – I was scared."

Misao's head jerked up. "What could you possibly be scared of?" Her time away from the troubled young man gave Misao time to rediscover her voice. Her determination to live her life as she saw fit strengthened her resolve. "I was the one living in constant fear, every step scrutinized."

Enishi lowered his head. "I know and I'm sorry. I – I saw you kiss that guy and I lost it. I thought I was losing you. I don't think I could take it if I lost you too. You're all that I have left." He reached for her, but Misao drew back her hand.

"Don't." Misao again took a couple of steps back, not wanting to turn her back to Enishi.

"Misao!"

Both Enishi and Misao turned to find the origin of the voice. Standing behind Misao was her instructor. Yumi stood with an enigmatic smile on her face.

"I'm glad I was able to catch you before you left." She cut her eyes to Enishi. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Misao quickly found her way to Yumi's side. "Not at all. He was just leaving. Weren't you?"

Enishi politely bowed to Yumi and walked down the street mumbling suspiciously to himself.

"Misao-chan, who was that?" Yumi asked.

Misao took in a deep breath and exhaled. "That would be Enishi."

Yumi gasped. She heard about the young man before Misao started attending classes, but she never thought that she would actually see him.

"Misao, how did he know he'd find you here -- now?"

Misao's eyes widened as the implications of Yumi's question hit her. She had signed up for the classes after she left him. Enishi had taken to following her again and she didn't recognize it. Misao's stomach began to turn as she realized that she was no closer to freedom than a convict on death row. Once again Enishi managed to tarnish something that she cherished. Misao wondered what it would take to truly be rid of Enishi. Was that even possible? No matter what progress she made, Enishi found a way to exert control. Her body began trembling violently, compensating for the tears that Misao refused to shed. Wordlessly, Yumi ushered Misao back into the studio. After sitting the distressed young woman in an empty chair, Yumi went into her office. Frantically, she sought her address book. Finding it under an invitation to a holiday party, Yumi flipped through its pages. She picked up the telephone receiver and dialed out.

"Enishi showed up here….He just left…..She's fine, but you need to get here quick."

* * *

Horns blared and drivers yelled various obscenities as he sped down the street. It did not matter that he had broken nearly every traffic law. He needed to get to Misao. His head began hurting as he thought of how close Enishi had been to her. Ever since he found out just how abominable Enishi was, he vowed to keep Misao safe from him. It had taken a while, but she was finally opening up again. A genuine light was returning to her eyes. He would protect that light, no matter the cost.

As he parked the car, he reined in his emotions. He needed for Misao to see him calm. If she were going to learn to trust him, he would need to prove that he was strong – the strongest. Before exiting the vehicle, he anxiously ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. Yumi said that Enishi left, but that did not mean that he was gone. He walked up to the dance studio's door, all the while surveying his surroundings. There did not appear to be any sign of Enishi. Ever on his guard, Misao's dark haired knight entered the building.

"Misao –"

"Soujiro, what are you doing here?" Misao asked.

"Yumi called and told me what happened. Are you alright?" Soujiro cautiously approached Misao.

Misao nodded. "I'm fine, just a little shaken. I'll be alright though."

"Why don't you let me bring you home? Are you still staying with Kaoru?"

Misao nodded once again. She stood silent as Soujiro asked Yumi which duffle bag belonged to her. Yumi pointed to a navy duffle bag sitting against the wall. Soujiro threw it over his shoulder and walked Misao to his car.

As Soujiro drove down the crowded streets, Misao stared out of the window. Watching as the cityscape passed her by she could not help but wonder about the state of her life. The ride was silent expect for the occasional sigh of a forlorn young woman.

"We're here Misao." Soujiro opened the passenger door. Misao forced herself to focus on the apartment building in front of her. Somehow she had to make it to her apartment without breaking down. Soujiro walked Misao to the door of the apartment she shared with Kaoru.

"Call me if you need anything." Soujiro gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks. I'll do that."

Misao dug her keys out of the duffle bag, fumbling as she attempted to unlock the heavy wooden door. Mid-fumble, the door swung open. Aoshi, somewhat bewildered by Soujiro's presence, stood in the doorway. He cut a sharp look toward the young man before focusing his attentions on Misao.

"Is everything alright?"

Misao's breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight before her. Aoshi, barefoot in a black ribbed tank top and loose fitting black pants, stood holding his kodachi. His onyx hair was damp from sweat and he had a warrior aura about him. It was obvious that he had just returned from a practice session with Kenshin. Nothing lit a fire in Aoshi as going blow-for-blow against Kenshin.

"Just fine. Soujiro was nice enough to give me a ride home so that I wouldn't be late for work." The forced smile adorning her face concerned Aoshi. He may not have known Misao as long as Kaoru did, but he did know her well enough to know when her smile was genuine.

"Okay." Aoshi stepped aside to let Misao in. He watched as she bounced to her bedroom, leaving the two dark haired men behind.

"So are you going to tell me what's really going on?" Aoshi asked, attentions firmly focused on the young man before him.

"Apparently Enishi showed up at the dance studio as Misao was leaving. Yumi, the owner, interrupted whatever he was trying to do to her. After that, Yumi called me to come get Misao. She was pretty shaken up, though she'll never admit to it."

Aoshi's eyes flashed to a dangerous shade of blue and Soujiro did not miss how the stoic man reflexively clenched his swords. There was something about Aoshi's eyes that unnerved Soujiro. There was an intensity present even in casual conversation that would send weaker men running. He wondered about the nature of Aoshi's relationship with Misao. Soujiro knew that he was Kaoru's older brother, but aside from that Aoshi was a mystery.

"I see." The two words uttered in Aoshi's deep timbre reverberated through the hall. "Thank you for getting her home safely."

"No problem. I would do anything for Misao." Soujiro turned and walked away, pondering his prospects and his competition.

Aoshi watched Soujiro until he had made it to the end of the hall and down the stairs. He reentered the apartment and locked the door. It was obvious that Soujiro held Misao in high regard. He seemed like a nice enough young man. Soujiro probably was interested in dating Misao. Something about that last thought bothered Aoshi. Misao was nowhere near ready to get into another serious relationship. She needed time to heal, to get comfortable in her skin again. Aoshi had no intention of letting this young man pressure Misao. Noticing the tight grip he still had on his kodachi, he sheathed them and placed them on the sword rack he bought.

"Misao," Aoshi called from the living room, "Come here."

Misao poked her head from behind her bedroom door. She did not miss the authoritative tone his voice had taken. "Just a minute. I'm changing."

Aoshi sat on the couch and waited. There was not much else he could do. Five minutes later Misao emerged wearing a teal racer-back tank top and gray sweat shorts. She plopped onto the couch next to Aoshi.

"You bellowed Aoshi-sama?"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that? I'm not that much older than you."

"I know Aoshi-sama. I just like the way you shudder, involuntarily of course, every time I call you that." Misao flashed a mischievous smile and reached for the remote control. Aoshi snatched it from her reach and simply shook his head.

"What happened today, Misao?" Aoshi's voice softened as he looked at Misao's slender frame.

"Nothing." Misao stared at the blank television screen, silently willing Aoshi into oblivion.

"Why would you lie to me Misao?" Aoshi pointed the remote control at the television and promptly turned to a cable news station.

"I'm not lying Aoshi-sama. There's nothing to tell." Misao feigned interest in the news report about the fear of a bird flu epidemic.

"Misao—," Aoshi grabbed her by the shoulders and made her look directly at him. Looking into Misao's eyes, Aoshi could see the fear. Her body had tensed, as if bracing herself for a blow. Aoshi quickly released her, realizing his error. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand. I need you to tell me what happened at the studio."

"I told you nothing happened. Soujiro offered me a ride and I took it. You wouldn't want me to be late for work now would you?"

Aoshi's soft chuckle startled Misao. "Misao, you and I both know that you don't care about being late to work. Besides, I think Kamatari would have a heart attack if you were actually on time."

Aoshi held the remote control out to Misao. "I'll make you a deal. You tell me what really happened today and I'll relinquish my rights to the remote."

Misao thought the offer over in her head. She knew that Soujiro must have told Aoshi what happened. Part of her wanted to pummel the smiling fool, but the more rational part of her was grateful that he had done so. It made it easier to talk about.

"I had just left dance class. One second I'm waving good-bye to Yumi and the next I'm face to face with Enishi."

Aoshi resisted the urge to ask questions, opting to let Misao speak at her own pace.

"He apologized and asked me to take him back." Misao sighed as she thought about Enishi. It was at times like these that she could see the fragility of his spirit. It was at times like these that she remembered why she fell in love with him.

"Are you sure you're okay Misao?"

Misao nodded, and quietly admitted to Aoshi that for a brief moment she wanted to throw herself into Enishi's arms and start over. Misao saw Aoshi's body go rigid as he realized what she just said. She smiled weakly as she readied herself for a verbal thrashing. When no such outburst came, she continued.

"I met him shortly after his sister died. He was wounded, broken. I never thought that he'd be capable of doing the things that he has done. I wanted to help him. I thought I could save him. I did not think things would end up like this."

"It's hard to help someone who believes they are doing the right thing," Aoshi responded.

Misao exhaled deeply, allowing her body to fall back onto the couch. Aoshi, noticing how precariously low Kaoru's spider lamp hung, threw himself behind Misao to prevent her from hitting her head. Misao felt her body hit something much harder than the couch. She looked to her side to see Aoshi looking up at her. At that instant, time stopped. Misao had never noticed how clear and intensely blue his eyes were. The shields that he normally kept up were not there. It was just him. Then, just as fast as the moment came, it was gone. Aoshi quickly righted himself, telling Misao that she narrowly escaped death by lamp. He then handed her the remote control. After all, they had a deal. Misao shook her head. She no longer wanted the remote. All she wanted was room to breathe. Misao could feel him all around her and it took all of her energy just to keep a neutral face. It was the same feeling she had when they kissed at the Blu Flayme.

She stood up and smoothed the fabric of her shorts. Smiling weakly, Misao excused herself claiming that time was running short and she needed to get her things together for her shift at the Blu Flayme. Aoshi eyed her curiously, but said nothing. He knew that Misao would tell him eventually, if that was what she desired. He turned his attentions back to the television, quickly realizing that Misao's excuse was more than an excuse. He too needed to get ready for work.

* * *

"Who in the hell does she think she is!"

The sound of glass crashing to the floor hardly soothed his ire. Misao had never been able to stay away for this long. Something, or more likely someone, had to be stopping her. However, he could not pinpoint the offending party. Enishi racked his brain trying to come up with the right person. He huffed and decided to let his overpriced dossiers do the thinking for him. There was that awkwardly tall guy. Enishi flipped the photograph over to see a name written in a nearly illegible script – Shinomori Aoshi. Apparently, he and Misao spent a lot of time together since they both worked at the Blu Flayme. Enishi had watched him escort Misao home on multiple occasions. Enishi knew from the information that he gathered that Aoshi was quite skilled in Kodachi Nitou Ryu, a style that used a short sword, and in a martial art known as kempo. This Aoshi kept in shape by sparring with a short red-head named Himura Kenshin. Enishi flipped to the next photograph to see a smiling Kenshin rubbing his head. Kenshin was the only student of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, taught by the ever arrogant Hiko Seijuro. Enishi gritted his teeth, tossing Kenshin's photo across the table. Who would have thought that two men in this day and age would be so well versed in such difficult styles of kenjutsu? The next photograph in the sequence was no better than the first two. It was one of that smiling jerk from the coffee house, Seta Soujiro. Apparently Soujiro was another man with an unnatural ability to handle a sword – and he was fast. If the reports were to be believed, he was even faster than Himura Kenshin. He was known as Tenken no Soujiro and his Sukuchi was unrivaled. As owner of Tia Maria, Soujiro also had a lot of access to Misao.

Along with the pictures were assorted facts about the men's lives. Enishi knew that Kenshin was not only romantically involved with Kamiya Kaoru, but was an aspiring sculptor as well. Despite his quiet demeanor, Kenshin held favor with many influential politicians. It seemed that Kenshin had made a name for himself as an astute advisor. That was how he could afford to lounge about and get his artistic career off the ground. Most believed it was his strict training under Hiko Seijuro that gave the man a remarkable insight into human character. It was a cunning man indeed that managed to deceive Himura Kenshin.

Soujiro was the brother-in-law of Shishio Makoto, the head of the prestigious Culture Preservation Society. Shishio was the man who handed Soujiro his first sword. It was he who recognized the raw skill and determination of the young man. After teaching all he could about the art of swordsmanship, Shishio persuaded Soujiro to become an active member of the Culture Preservation Society. Shishio reasoned that without men of their caliber to remind Japan of her greatness, it would soon fade away. Under the auspices of the Culture Preservation Society, Soujiro had opened a number of businesses whose purpose was to maintain the ideals and values inherent to Japanese society. Soujiro at one time partnered with Hiko Seijuro on the proper way to make and serve sake. Yumi's dance studio also functioned as a finishing school for the daughters of the elite. Even Tia Maria held a higher purpose. Every Sunday night, classes were held on how to properly perform the tea ceremony.

How had Misao managed to surround herself with such people? She was a nobody, a drop out who thought she had what it took to make it as an actress. How had such a common creature gained the attention of so many extraordinary people?

Enishi placed the folder with containing the photos back on the table. He leaned forward to reach the wallet in his back pocket. He unfolded it to reveal a photograph of Misao asleep in his bed. Though it was not an old photo, it was quite worn. Enishi spent most of the last few weeks fixated on it. It was as if he believed that with enough focus on the photograph, he could will Misao back into his life.

Behind the picture of Misao was a picture of his sister Tomoe. She was standing in front of a sakura tree, laughing as the petals fell around her. Enishi sighed as he remembered those times. His family was still intact. It was before Tomoe left. His father had not yet become a bitter sadistic tyrant. His mother had not yet succumbed to the pressure and taken her life. Enishi sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. Those were the days when his hair was still black.

Enishi's fractured attention span lead him back to the dossiers. Why hadn't Tomoe been able to find people like Aoshi, Kenshin and Soujiro when she came to Tokyo? How had she fallen prey to Takeda Kanryuu? Tomoe was every bit as good as Misao. In fact, she was better. Why did she die alone? Where were her loyal friends? Why didn't anyone see that she was drowning in her addictions? Enishi wondered whether his late sister's shy demeanor and cool aloofness kept people from seeing how wonderful and how fragile she was.

As his thoughts jumped back and forth between Misao and Tomoe, Enishi felt an oddly familiar urge course through his veins. He desired Misao's presence. He wanted to know what it was about her that drew people in. He so desperately needed to know how Misao managed to escape Tomoe's fate.


	7. Chapter 7

_What's good? I have returned from the abyss of writer's block to give you another installment of The Unexpected. I would like to thank WEIRDkittywwings. Without her, I don't think I could have gotten this chapter out (Thank you so much for you help with the Wolf of Mibu. If some of Saito's lines sound familiar…..) If you haven't checked out her fic, An Okashira's Honor you ought to. Tell her Deadly Diva sent you. She'll think you're cool. _

_:plot bunnies hop happily in the background: _

_I don't ask much. Just keep an open mind as you read. If there's something you really like, review. If there's something that bothers you to no end, review. If you think that I should stick to my day job and leave RK alone, review. Have you taken the hint yet? _

_On with the show….. _

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Kaoru stood in her kitchen. Ever since Misao and Aoshi moved in there was more food to be had, but that didn't mean that she liked the food they bought. Aoshi commandeered an entire drawer for his precious green tea. She shook her head. No one in Japan drank as much tea as Aoshi. Man could not live on tea alone. One day Aoshi would have to realize that. Kaoru walked out of her kitchen, disgusted. She had managed to walk out of a fully stocked kitchen just as hungry as she was she entered. Kaoru blew an errant strand of hair from her face as she surveyed her living space. It amazed Kaoru how empty and clean her apartment was even thought she had two roommates. She sat down on the couch, which still doubled as Aoshi's bed, readying herself for another evening home alone. Kaoru found herself drawn to a documentary about the influence of those known as hitokiri, when her evening was interrupted.

The apartment door flew open. In a move more befitting Misao, Aoshi came barreling into the apartment.

"Where's Misao?" His voice did not match his recent actions. He spoke as if he were asking the time and not about the well-being of a young woman who recently disentangled herself from an abusive boyfriend.

Kaoru shot Aoshi a puzzled look. Ever since Misao moved in, Aoshi has been her escort home from work. His diligence to the task often made Kaoru wonder about her brother's true motivations.

Aoshi noticed Kaoru's vacant look. He swore under his breath and began pacing. For a moment, Kaoru was certain that she saw panic in her elder sibling's eyes.

"Aoshi, what's going on?" Kaoru rose slowly placing herself in front of her brother.

"Misao is missing."

"What do you mean missing? She's supposed to be at work – with you! What the hell are you talking about?" Each question was accentuated with a rough push to Aoshi's chest.

Moving past Kaoru, Aoshi sat on the couch and placed his head in his hands. "She went into the dressing room, but never came out. Her habitual tardiness often means she's alone in the dressing room, as the other girls on her shift are already on the floor. No one ever thought to check the dressing room since all the girls need a card key to get in.

"This is my fault. After what Enishi pulled last week, I should have insisted that Kamatari install more cameras, even in the dressing room."

"Aoshi, you know Kamatari could not do that. It violates the girls' privacy."

"I don't give a damn about their privacy. I care about Misao," Aoshi thundered. He paused, realizing what he just said. His voice softened considerably as he began to speak again. "Listen, I'm just worried about her. That's all."

Kaoru sat next to her big brother, placing her hand atop his. She never heard Aoshi sound so broken, so distraught. "We'll find her."

* * *

Kamatari sat in his office silently praying that the gods would protect Misao, wherever she was. He knew that Enishi was behind this. He just couldn't figure out how he had gotten into the club. Kamatari growled in frustration. Whoever let Enishi in would soon be looking for a new job. Having sent Aoshi home, Kamatari found himself screening surveillance footage for any sign of Enishi. When Aoshi suggested the numerous security cameras, Kamatari obliged. Now he was regretting his decision. Aoshi had over 20 cameras installed on the premises. Kamatari would be viewing tapes for the rest of his natural life. 

"Kamatari-san."

Kamatari looked up from his desk to see who entered his office. "Yahiko, what is it?" Kamatari could see that his words came out harsher than intended as his best dee-jay took a step back. "Gomen, I'm just a bit out of sorts. What did you need?"

Yahiko tentatively entered the plush office, taking care to sidestep the shards of glass that were strewn about the floor. "Komagata-san and her brother are here to see you. Something about Misao."

Kamatari quickly made himself more presentable, touching up his lipstick and running a nervous hand through his hair. Kamatari inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, willing the feeling of dread to leave his body along with the expelled air. "Send them in."

Yahiko nodded and walked out of the office. Kamatari could hear muffled voices, but paid it no mind. Yahiko was probably warning them that he was not in the best of moods. The door slowly opened and Yumi stuck her head inside. A semi-disgusted snort escaped her lips as she surveyed the state of the office. Thoroughly aggravated, Yumi threw Kamatari's office door open.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you going to sit here and sulk or are you going to help find Misao?" Yumi's usually refined demeanor took a backseat to her rage. Tears began to fall as she contemplated Misao's dire situation. Her brother, noticing her emotional display, ushered her to a cream leather chaise lounge.

"Kamatari-san, how did this happen? I thought you and Shinomori-san were protecting Misao. If I had known that the two of you were so incompetent, so impotent, I would have taken matters into my own hands."

"Soujiro-kun, that is unnecessary. You know that they did the best that they could."

Soujiro shot his older sister an incredulous look. Yumi knew better than anyone what Misao was facing. She once was Misao. She knew what could happen, what would happen if they did not find her. There was no excuse for Kamatari and Aoshi letting Enishi get to Misao.

"You know Soujiro-kun, you sound a lot like Shishio-sama."

Yumi's head shot up at the mention of her husband. She was not exactly sure what Kamatari's relationship with Shishio was. All Yumi knew was that Kamatari damn near worshipped him, and it made her quite uncomfortable.

"Yes, Shishio-san has taught me much. I used to balk when he would say 'if you're strong you live; if you're weak you die.' Now I understand it completely. Because of your weakness, Misao may die." Soujiro's voice held an even tone. It was as if he had reverted to that insecure, damaged boy he was years ago. He turned away from Kamatari. The mere sight of Kamatari served only as a reminder of the precarious situation. For the first time in years, no smile resided on Soujiro's face.

* * *

'Where the hell am I?' 

Misao slowly turned her head from the left to the right. Her eyes had not yet opened. Never had she thought that the simple task of opening one's eyes could be so laborious. She took deliberate calculated breaths as she fought against an unnatural grogginess. Attempts to sit upright were thwarted as Misao soon discovered that she was bound by the wrists. A hesitant kick let her know that she was bound by the ankles as well. Misao swore profusely as her leg returned to its original position.

Slowly the fog began to lift. Misao could see vague outlines of shapes and some colors. She realized that the brown swirling mass above her head was merely a ceiling fan. A glance to the right let Misao know that she was confined to a large, white bed.

Panic took residence as Misao realized that this was not just any white bed. Her eyes darted to the left and to the right looking for any sign of him. She knew he was watching her, waiting to see what effect this situation would have. Determined not to let him know that she was terrified, Misao consciously slowed her breathing and heart rate. Closing her eyes, Misao imagined that she was home watching television, listening to Kaoru try to coax a multi-syllabic word from Aoshi's mouth – Aoshi's mouth, now that was a image Misao did not mind meditating on. Misao could see him standing in the kitchen after his morning run, holding a cup of tea in one hand while the other would leaf through the newspaper. Against her brain's wishes, Misao felt her heart rate increase as she thought of the way Aoshi licked his lips right before blowing his tea. An unintentional moan escaped her lips as she watched Aoshi in her mind's eye.

"Who knew you'd like being tied up?"

The malice in those few words flowed through Misao's veins like ice water. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, only to have her attempts thwarted by her bindings. Silently, she cursed herself knowing that he would misinterpret her knee jerk reaction. Hesitantly, she turned toward the voice, silently praying that anyone other than him was standing next to her. As her eyes confirmed what her ears already knew, Misao cringed. She closed her eyes and slowly reopened them, hoping that this was nothing but a really bad dream. Misao found that she was still as tied up as she was the moment before.

"Enishi," Misao bit out, "What a pleasant surprise."

"You have no idea."

Enishi sat at the end of the bed and ran a finger along the bottom of Misao's foot, taking pleasure in the way that it instinctively curled. She tried to draw her foot away from him, but once again her bindings interfered. A smirk graced Enishi's face as he watched her struggle.

"You wouldn't be trying to get away from me, would you?"

"Oh no, never that. It's every girl's dream to be kidnapped and tied to a bed," Misao replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Misao's chest constricted as Enishi took off his sunglasses. Placing them on the nightstand, he slowly brought his face down to Misao.

"You may want to watch what you say." His voice was barely audible, but the promise of harm came through loud and clear.

"Enishi," Misao's voice took on the compliant tones that at one time soothed the irate young man, "You can't keep me here like this. People will come looking for me."

Misao gasped as Enishi's eyes flashed a violent shade of green. Her mind rebuked her for agitating him as he hovered above her.

"What people are talking about? Soujiro? That fag Kamatari? Or maybe your new bed buddy Aoshi?"

"I'm not sleeping with him," Misao whispered.

"Liar," Enishi uttered as a slap resounded through the room. "I've seen the two of you together."

He stood up and started pacing the room. His gait demonstrated none of Enishi's natural grace. Frustration and anger made his steps irregular and awkward. He reached the bedroom door and paused. Slowly turning around, Enishi stared at Misao's bound form. He took a deep breath and walked back to Misao's side. Enishi took her chin in his hand and turned her face from side to side.

Enishi reached in his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. He pulled out the picture of Tomoe and stared at it inquisitively. He then directed his gaze toward Misao and back to the photograph.

"I don't understand it. She's just as pretty as you. I know that she's smarter than you. I don't understand how you inspire such loyalty while my sister was left to die." Enishi's voice was distant, as if he were talking more to himself than Misao.

"May I see the picture?" Misao asked gently.

In all the time she knew Enishi, she had yet to see a picture of the iconic Tomoe. Enishi's grip on the photo tensed as he considered Misao's request. After a moment's contemplation, he turned photo around so that she could see.

Misao looked at the picture he held in front of her curiously. It was nothing more than one of the photo inserts that came in every wallet. In fact, Misao had seen this particular photo many times. The young red headed European woman was sitting on a swing, smiling at someone in the distance. Misao decided against informing Enishi of his error, lest she set him off again.

* * *

"Thank you officer. We'll be there shortly." Kaoru hung up the phone. She took a deep breath. Her eyes fell upon her distraught brother. She sat down next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. 

"Kenshin has a contact down at the police department. He told me if ever I needed help to call him." Kaoru waited for any sort of response from her brother. Receiving none, she continued, "We are to meet him at the station now."

Aoshi silently stood up and walked over to his sword rack. Part of him wanted to disembowel Enishi, to slowly remove the flesh from his worthless bones. Yet, somehow Aoshi knew that would not please Misao. He glided his hand along the length of the sheath, once again vowing that he would do whatever it took to make sure that this never happened again, knowing that he would not be able to live with himself if Misao died due to his repeated negligence.

Kaoru walked up to Aoshi, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Come on. We have to go."

* * *

Soujiro sat at Kamatari's desk reviewing the security tapes as Kamatari and Yumi sat on the other side of the office discussing the gravity of Misao's situation. As Soujiro scanned through the images from a camera positioned just outside the dressing room, he realized that Kamatari may have missed a very important angle. They had spent so much time trying to figure out how Enishi got into the club that they ignored the very feasible. 

"Kamatari-san!" The urgency in Soujiro's voice was enough to startle both Kamatari and Yumi. "Have you hired any new girls?"

* * *

"So are you the new boyfriend?" The officer had not even bothered to look up from the newspaper he was reading. 

Aoshi nearly choked on the very air he was breathing. Rapidly he shook his head. Aoshi could feel his sister's eyes on him, but he chose to ignore Kaoru. "I advised her that it would be best if she did not rush into another relationship so soon after Enishi."

Lowering the corner of the paper to see who was sitting across from him, Saito took a drag of his cigarette. "Let me make sure I got this – You live with her. You escort her to and from work. You spend much of your free time worrying about her. But you're not her boyfriend?" Saito expelled a large cloud of smoke in Aoshi's direction. "Next you'll tell me that you sit around and do her laundry."

"Saito, is that any way to treat Shinomori-san?"

Saito spun around in his chair to see Kenshin standing in the corner smiling. "Damn it Himura! I told you about doing that!"

Kenshin pouted his lips mockingly. "Now what would my dear sweet cousin say?"

Saito rolled his eyes and sighed. Damn Himura. If it weren't for the fact that he was his wife's favorite cousin, Saito would have run him through years ago. Amber eyes cut to Kenshin and knew he had no choice but to tolerate the redhead.

"Sit down and shut the hell up Himura…if you want to be a part of this conversation."

Kenshin walked from the corner and stood behind a seated Kaoru. He tenderly placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. She, in turn, looked up at him appreciatively as she placed one of her hands over his. Never had Kaoru thought that she would be sitting in a police precinct trying to figure out how to find her best friend.

Saito Hajime's office was what one could consider standard police issue. He sat behind a wooden desk surrounded by commendations and various awards for his dedication to his job and his fellow officers. Kaoru's eyes homed in on a large black frame containing many clippings. The headline of one such clipping read, "Illegal firearm shipment seized. Yukishiro denies involvement." Another headline read "Yukishiro Mistrial – What the Police Did Wrong." Kenshin felt the tension in Kaoru's shoulders and followed her line of sight to the wall.

'Damn it,' Kenshin thought. 'This is going to get messy.'

"Saito-san," Kaoru whispered as she stood and walked to the clippings hanging on the adjacent wall. As she looked at the pictures accompanying the clippings, Kaoru felt a wave of nausea hit her. "Are all these articles about Enishi?"

Saito looked over his shoulder and cursed. He went to take another drag of his cigarette when he realized he already smoked it down to the filter. Saito reached in his pocket to retrieve another before answering Kaoru. He leaned back into his chair, rolling his eyes as Aoshi was now examining the articles as well.

Saito snorted as he began to read the newspaper anew, amber eyes alight with amusement.

"She sure picked herself a real winner. Since you're not sleeping with her, you must be jealous bodyguard boy" He scoffed, taking another drag of his cigarette as he added to the ash overflowing onto the edge of his desk.

Aoshi glared icy daggers at Saito before reoccupying his abandoned chair. He looked to the floor and ran his fingers through his obsidian hair. With his eyes obscured by his overgrown bangs, no one saw the tears threatening to come forth. Aoshi did not even bother to look up as he began speaking.

"You will tell me everything you know about Yukishiro Enishi."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

_I know you probably want to hit me for ending it like this, but I had no choice. I ran out of ideas. Well, not really ran out of ideas, more like was anxious to post. Give me your thoughts and opinions. They are always welcome._

_Until next time,_

_Deadly Diva_


	8. Chapter 8

_Greetings and salutations --_

_Sorry it's taken so long to get this out. Life sometimes gets in the way. Hopefully this chpater will make up for my long absence. BTW, this piece is wrapping itself up. I hope you like what I have in store._

_ Deadly Diva_

_XxXxXxXxXx  
_

Kamatari scoured his file cabinet for the latest personnel files. Each file contained an application, resume, photograph and a set of fingerprints. Yumi, who had been looking over Kamatari's shoulder, scoffed upon seeing the prints.

"Don't laugh Yumi-san. You'd be surprised by the weirdoes that come through this place. I'm just trying to make sure that their eccentricities are benign."

Kamatari pulled four folders from the cabinet. Hesitantly, he handed them to Soujiro, who was still pouring over the surveillance footage. Soujiro looked up to see the folders being held in front of him. He mumbled a few words of gratitude before attacking the folders like a rabid dog. The first two were eliminated instantly. They were not on the premises that evening. Soujiro looked at a photograph of a vibrant redhead. It was obvious her hair was dyed as the black roots were quite prominent. Looking at the file, he saw that her name was Matsumoto Seizo. The next photo was of a traditionally stunning woman named Mitomo Yukio. Her ebony hair had been pulled back into an off-center ponytail at the nape of her neck, flowing over her shoulder well past the frame of photograph.

Soujiro once again turned his attentions to the surveillance tapes. He could clearly see Seizo covering the bar while Chou took a break. Soujiro removed that tape and reinserted the tape made by the camera posted just outside the dressing room. His body froze as he saw a flash of red dart in and out of the frame. Soujiro rewound the footage so that he could watch it in slow motion.

"Kamatari-san, come look at this." Soujiro's voice was distant, almost empty.

Kamatari looked over Soujiro's shoulder and gasped as he saw Seizo's red top knot enter the dressing room mere minutes after Misao.

"That ungrateful wench! When I get my hands on her, she'll wish that I was a woman." Kamatari was well on his way to retrieve his scythe, when Soujiro called to him again.

"Kamatari-san, there's something else." Irritation laced the usually even toned young man's words. Soujiro pointed out the time stamp on the footage from the dressing room door. He then pulled the footage from the bar. Kamatari groaned as he saw Seizo and her red top knot serving drinks at the bar.

Yumi, now intrigued by what could have affected Kamatari so, found herself looking at the footage as well. She cocked her head to the side and laughed most audibly. She looked from the personnel files to the surveillance footage again just to be certain before she spoke.

"Yumi, what the hell is so funny?" Kamatari asked as he considered introducing Yumi to his scythe.

"Those two aren't the same girl." Yumi replied.

"How can you be so sure?" Soujiro asked.

"Look at this girl right here," Yumi instructed as she pointed to the screen with the version of Seizo serving drinks at the bar, "This top knot has silver chopsticks holding it together. Look at her hairline – two inch long black roots."

Yumi switched tapes and instructed them to look at the version of Seizo entering the dressing room. "What do you see?"

Kamatari could have kicked himself for not noticing it sooner. This Seizo had black chopsticks and a full head of red hair – from root to tip. "How did I miss something like that?"

"Don't worry about it Kamatari-san. It's a female thing…you couldn't possibly understand," Yumi smirked.

XxXxXxXxXx

Kaoru stared mutely as Saito revealed most of what he knew of Yukishiro Enishi – the international criminal organization, the illegal arms dealing, even the human trafficking. Every so often Kenshin had to remind her to breathe. Out of the corner of her eye, Kaoru could see her brother sitting with his eyes closed and hands clasped in his lap, as if he were meditating.

"Yukishiro relinquished control of his organization. That is why he dropped off our radar." Saito closed the folder that was in front of him. He leaned back in his chair, placed his hands behind head and waited for the inevitable barrage of questions.

"Saito, how could he just drop off the radar?" Kenshin asked. "I know you well enough to know that you would not let someone like Enishi evade your grasp."

Saito cut his eyes toward the redhead that had a tendency to talk too damn much. Amber eyes narrowed as he expelled a large cloud of smoke. Saito snubbed out his cigarette before reaching down into his desk's bottom drawer. He pulled out a leather bound book and opened it.

"Yukishiro is mentally unstable. He was, shall we say, compelled to give control of his organization to his number two man," Saito simply stated. He heard Kaoru gasp. A glance in Aoshi's direction let Saito know that the seemingly impervious man was indeed paying attention.

Kaoru opened her mouth to say something, but found that her voice failed her. She took a deep breath and with the steadiest voice she could muster asked, "What do you mean compelled?"

Saito shook his head as he leafed through the book. "I didn't know that I had a stuttering problem."

He closed the book with a loud thump. Looking into Kaoru's eyes, Saito could not help but be reminded of his wife Tokio. Both had eyes that radiated compassion, virtue and hope. Shaking off the twinge of guilt, as he knew he was about to upset the young woman, Saito returned to the task at hand.

"According to the reports I received, Yukishiro began seeing things. At first, it was thought to be bouts of paranoia due to the life he led."

"Seeing things?" Kenshin asked.

Saito shot a silencing glare toward Kenshin. "If I may continue? As I was saying Yukishiro began seeing things. After being treated by Genzai-sensai, it was discovered that Yukishiro suffered from schizophrenia."

Kaoru opened her mouth and then closed it without speaking for she did not want to appear foolish in front of the truculent civil servant. She had heard of schizophrenia, but was not well versed in its symptoms. Kaoru looked toward her brother who internalized Saito's last statement. From the gleam in his blue eyes, Aoshi was knowledgeable of this condition.

"How severe?" Aoshi's voice cut through the deafening silence of Saito's office. The uncommunicative officer remained silent, trying to see how far Aoshi would go to get the information he desired.

Saito watched amusedly as Aoshi's azure eyes narrowed. Saito could see the frustration and fear that Aoshi kept hidden under his mask of indifference. Aoshi leaned forward and repeated his question slowly. As much as Saito would have liked to continue taunting the young man, the detective in him knew that a young woman's life was in jeopardy. A single look at the people in front of him let Saito know that this Misao was beloved.

"Yukishiro was medicated and the disease became manageable. The hallucinations even subsided. Well, all but one." Saito dryly replied. He reached for his newspaper and began to leaf through it, feigning interest in a fluff piece about winter car care.

"Saito-san," Kenshin's voice was barely audible, "What hallucination resisted the medication?"

Saito folded the top half of his newspaper down so he could look into Kenshin's eyes. "Tomoe."

"I think you may have been misinformed," Kaoru's voice cracked under the strain of Saito's stare. "Enishi told Misao that he held Tomoe as she died of a heroin overdose".

She clung desperately to Kenshin's arm. Her mind was screaming that Saito was wrong. He had to be. If not, Misao was in more trouble than any of them could have imagined.

"I'm never wrong." Saito refolded his newspaper and placed in front of him. "Yukishiro Enishi is an only child. When Yukishiro was seventeen his mother committed suicide. Yukishiro's father was devastated. But instead of reaching out to his motherless son he became withdrawn, leaving Yukishiro to grieve the loss of his mother alone. Apparently, his mind could not deal with the grief and created another sibling to blame for his mother's death."

"Kami-sama," Kaoru whispered, "We have to find her. Enishi – he's – we have to –"

Saito cleared his throat, once again becoming the center of attention. "From what you've told me, your friend was already in danger. When Yukishiro violated the protective order last week, you should have called the police. Now your vigilante tendencies may cost Makimachi-san her life."

"Saito –" Kenshin began.

Saito shot him yet another silencing glare. He sighed, as if bored with the entire exchange, and continued speaking. "Just get out. I have some investigating to do if I'm going to find Yukishiro and any remnants of your friend."

Aoshi stared into the lupine eyes of Saito Hajime. He knew Saito was right. Aoshi stood and bowed respectfully to Saito before leaving the detective's office.

XxXxXxXxXx

"Yahiko, could you tell Yukio that I'd like to speak with her at her earliest convenience." Kamatari released the button on the intercom.

"What the hell was all the sweetness about?" Yumi asked

"Any employee of mine worth anything knows not to keep me waiting."

It what seems like the span of ten seconds, there was a tentative knock on Kamatari's office door. A smug look adorned his face as he invited the person on the other side to enter.

"You wanted to see me Kamatari-san." Yukio stood at the threshold, unsure whether she should enter the messy office.

Kamatari waved the girl into his office. "Don't mind the mess. Komagata-san and Seta-san were just looking for something. Soujiro-kun, why don't you try the cabinet next to the bar?"

Yumi and Soujiro caught on quickly and made their way to the cabinet. Soujiro opened the cabinet and stepped out of the way to give Kamatari and Yukio a clear view inside. Yumi fought to suppress her laughter as she noticed the look on Yukio's face when she saw what Kamatari kept in the cabinet.

"There's seems to be a scythe missing Kamatari-san." Soujiro simply stated.

"You mean the large one? I gave it to Chou to have it serviced. He knows a guy who sharpens a blade so precisely, it's like he's crafting a new one. I'll have it back tomorrow." Kamatari gave Soujiro a sly wink and focused his attention once again on Yukio.

"Yukio-san, have you seen Misao? It's been at least two hours since we've closed and she hasn't handed in her receipts." Kamatari poured himself a glass of Russian vodka. It had taken him a while to get accustomed to the foreign spirit after Iwanbo, an acquaintance from northern Japan who was able to get his hands on some of the finest Russian vodka, introduced him to it. Now, it was a staple in his personal bar.

Yukio lowered her head. "It was a busy night Kamatari-san. I barely was able to keep up with my section."

Kamatari cast a curious look toward Yumi and Soujiro, but said nothing. He added an ice cube to his vodka and took a sipped. Satisfied with the temperature, he continued speaking with Yukio.

"Yukio-san," Kamatari looked down at the ledger on his desk, "Now that I think about it, you haven't handed your receipts either."

Yukio giggled nervously. "I told you – it was busy." She reached into the pocket of her apron and handed Kamatari a stack of receipts and her cash. She lowered her eyes, hoping that her business with Kamatari was concluded for the evening.

Soujiro walked from the cabinet and stood along side Yukio. As she looked up to see who was beside her, Soujiro let her brown eyes capture his blue ones in a rather intimate gaze. "You have such beautiful hair."

"You think so? Actually, it's a wig. I just wanted to see how the color would look on me before taking the plunge."

Soujiro engaged Yukio in meaningless banter as Kamatari slipped the surveillance footage into the player. He then pressed the button on the floor under his desk and a projector screen descended from the ceiling. The sound of the screen's descent startled Yukio, giving Kamatari a reason to laugh during such a somber time. After a few choice clicks of Kamatari's mouse, the image of a red headed woman entering the dressing room moments after Misao was plastered on the screen for all to see.

Yumi cocked her head to the side. She repositioned herself so that she could be a better view of the screen. "That kind of looks like you, or maybe Seizo-san. It's hard to tell."

Kamatari chuckled. "Yumi dear, it couldn't have been Seizo. She was covering the bar for Chou."

Yukio was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as Kamatari replayed that bit of footage. She stood slowly.

"Kamatari-san, I think that I'm going to head back to the floor now. I need to help the girls clean the place up."

Each word she spoke was marked by a step toward the door. With her back to the door, Yukio reached for the doorknob. Only then did she notice that Soujiro was preventing her exit. Yukio had not heard Soujiro move from the chair. She wondered how he had managed to beat her to the door. She wondered how anyone could move so quickly.

"Leaving so soon Yukio-san? I was quite enjoying our conversation." Soujiro's smiled beamed brightly at the young woman.

"It wasn't that. I just didn't think it fair for me to be in here while the others are setting up for tomorrow night." She replied nervously. Yukio noticed that Soujiro's smile did not reach his eyes, but thought nothing of it. It was rather late and she assumed that he was tired.

Soujiro extended his hand for Yukio to take. Looking at it hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, letting him guide her back to the chair in which she had been sitting.

"Now that I think about, such a bright red doesn't suit your complexion. It seems like you're trying to emulate Seizo-san." Yumi flippantly remarked while feigning interest in magazine left on Kamatari's chaise.

Yukio laughed nervously, a reaction that was becoming habitual, as she slowly removed the wig from her head. "I thought the color looked really good on Seizo and was thinking of getting a similar dye job. Maybe electric blue would be a better color for me?"

Her half hearted attempt at humor was wasted on those in her presence. Yukio felt herself sinking into the chair until Soujiro saved her.

"Yumi, weren't you listening before? Yukio-san is testing the color out."

Soujiro leaned over to continue his conversation with Yukio. Kamatari watched in silence as Soujiro tried to charm the young woman into revealing what she knew. His patience was worn thin; he had reached his breaking point.

Kamatari huffed, slamming his drink on the desk. "I have grown weary of this cat and mouse game. I know you had something to do with Misao's disappearance!"

Yukio's face was devoid of all color as the weight of Kamatari's accusation fell upon her. "I – I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered. "I didn't even know that Misao was missing."

"Liar!"

Yukio was startled by the venom in Soujiro's voice.

"What did you do to Misao?" Soujiro asked, each word as sharp as a katana blade.

Yukio scanned the room. She knew that there was no way she would get out of Kamatari's office unless she was given permission to leave. Acknowledging her limited options, Yukio took in a deep breath. She exhaled slowly, eyeing the people who were questioning her. Seeing no other way out, she began talking.

"I knew Enishi from his days in the syndicate. I worked with him. I was kind of like his personal assistant. He was different from the other bosses. He was kind. He really seemed to care about the people who he worked with." Yukio sighed wistfully as she remembered the Enishi of a time long past.

"How personal?" Kamatari asked.

"Nothing like that," Yukio quickly interjected. "It was a strictly professional relationship. He was so kind to me – made me feel special."

"You fell in love with him." Yumi simply stated.

Yukio nodded her head. "He never knew though. I didn't tell him. Even after he left the syndicate, I was still too afraid to tell him, too afraid of what I would hear. Then he met Misao." There was no bitterness in her tone, just an overwhelming sadness and longing. "Even knowing that I didn't have a chance, I let myself believe –" Yukio paused, carefully considering whether to reveal this piece of information, "I let myself believe that he would one day see me the way he saw Misao."

Kamatari rolled his eyes, sighing. He had heard enough of her tale of unrequited love. "Not that I don't enjoy hearing about how much of a gentle soul Enishi is, but there are more pressing matters to take care of – like why you came to my club and what you did to Misao."

Yukio slouched in the chair. She explained that Enishi did not take Misao's departure very well. Over time Enishi's depression gave way to desperation. Yukio sighed as she recalled the afternoon approached her with the idea of taking a job at the Blu Flayme. He wanted someone to keep an eye on her since he was no longer allowed in the club. At first, Enishi was content just hearing about Misao's exploits. Somehow, Yukio working at the club made him feel like he was still connected to her. He was beginning to accept that she no longer wanted to be with him. Then he heard about Aoshi and the way he doted on Misao. It was as if the break up just happened. Depression took over again. He became increasingly agitated, talking about people taking advantage of Misao's innocence and needing to protect her.

Yumi nodded. "I understand why you took a job here, but I don't understand why you would help Enishi abduct Misao. Why bring your rival to him?"

Yukio lowered her head. Ashamed, she whispered, "I still love him. I just wanted him to be happy. I'd do anything to make him happy."

"Even this?" Yumi asked.

"Even this."

The office fell silent after Yukio's little speech. Kamatari looked at his recently discarded drink. Downing it in one brutish gulp, he thought of the various ways he could torture Yukio for her duplicity. Simultaneously, he berated himself for not seeing the young woman for what she was.

As Kamatari, Yumi and Soujiro contemplated what to do with the information the got from Yukio, the telephone rang.

"Yes."

"Kamatari-san, do you have Enishi's address?"

Kamatari looked over at Yukio. "No, but I'm pretty sure I can get it for you."

"Good. I'll be there shortly. I have Kaoru and Kenshin with me. I trust that it is not a problem."

Kamatari giggled as he fingered his glass. "No problem at all. Say, do you think that you can convince Kaoru to reconsider my job offer? I know I can pay her more that Soujiro-kun."

Aoshi glared at his phone incredulously.

"Tsk, tsk. I can feel you glaring." Kamatari's giggles became full-blown laughter. "I was just kidding. I'll see you when you get here."

Kamatari returned the phone to the base, letting a smile creep onto his face for the first time since the ordeal began. "Yumi, Soujiro, it seems that we'll be having company."

"Who?" Soujiro asked.

"Shinomori-san. He is bringing Kaoru and Kenshin, her boyfriend, with him."

Kamatari watched as Soujiro's jaw clenched. 'This should be interesting,' he thought as he poured himself another glass of vodka.

_So... what did you think?_

_ Deadly Diva  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_Wow...I can't believe it's been so long. Well -- At least I managed to finish this fic. Thank you for coming on this ride._

_Love and peace,_

_Deadly Diva_

* * *

From her supine position, Misao looked toward her wrists. Her arms were sore from being in the same position for what seemed like days. One thing was certain; her fantasy of being ravished while handcuffed to a bed was no longer at the top of her to-do list.

Silently, she cursed the fates for weaving such an ordeal into the fabric of her life. The warm dry air in Enishi's apartment dried out her lips and throat. Licking her lips proved to be an exercise in futility as the chloroform she had been subjected to exacerbated her reaction to the arid climate. Misao sighed, rolling her head to the left. She figured since she wasn't going anywhere, she might as well try to work out the kinks in her neck. As she rolled her head to the right, she noticed a crystal decanter with two matching glasses on Enishi's nightstand – and the decanter was filled with water. For the first time since her ordeal began, Misao was somewhat happy. It amazed her how the sight of the life sustaining liquid could brighten her mood. Now, she just needed to figure out how to get it. Perhaps Enishi would release one of her hands so that she could drink the water.

'Like that's going to happen', she thought. 'He'd sooner kiss Kamatari.'

Misao let out a muted snort, not willing to try out her parched vocal chords. As she lay, Misao tried to figure out how long she had been in Enishi's apartment. She looked as far as her restraints would allow for anything that would give her a clue as to how much time passed. A frustration induced huff erupted into a coughing fit.

"Are you all right Misao?"

Misao's body froze at the sound of his voice. Even her coughs died in her throat. She morbidly wondered if Enishi's voice could quell a fit of laughter seeing as he was able to scare her coughs into non-existence.

"I thought you left. How long have you been in here?" Misao asked defiantly.

"Long enough to know that you are rather thirsty." Enishi walked into Misao's field of view. "I saw you eyeing this decanter." He removed the stopper and poured water into one of the glasses. Enishi lifted the glass to his lips, consuming its contents in one swift gulp.

A low growl rumbled in Misao's chest. Enishi cut his eyes back to her bound form, smirking.

"Oh, how selfish of me." Enishi ran a finger across Misao's chapped lower lip. The same finger found its way to Misao's bindings. "You'll never be able to drink tied up like this."

Misao's eyes lit up. She had hoped that Enishi would release her hands. All she needed was one free hand.

"I'll be right back." Enishi kissed Misao on her cheek and walked out of the bedroom.

Misao knew she had only but a few moments to figure out what she was going to do when Enishi returned. Whatever it was has to be swift and relatively long lasting. She would need every second to remove the rest of the bindings and escape. Misao's body jerked as she heard the doorknob turn. With her time rapidly dwindling, Misao worked with the assumption that Enishi would only free one hand. She would have to go for a pressure point if she wanted any real chance at getting away.

Feigning disinterest, Misao turned her face from Enishi. She could hear him pick up the decanter. The sound of flowing water brought a bit of hope to her bleak situation. Misao heard Enishi place the decanter back on the nightstand. All that remained was the binding.

"Misao, look at me." Enishi's voice was soft, almost concerned. "You need to drink some water."

Misao wondered why Enishi had not released her hands yet. She sighed, chiding herself for not realizing that he was turning a simple drink of water into a display of dominance. Her heart dropped when she finally faced Enishi. He was holding a water bottle, complete with sport cap. Misao quickly masked her disappointment.

"You didn't think I was going to release you, did you? You're still too jumpy. Once you've gotten used to our arrangement, I'll free you."

Enishi placed the bottle to her lips, allowing Misao to drink as much as she wanted. Misao turned her face from the bottle, indicating that she had her fill. She whispered her thanks. Summoning all the courage she had, Misao tried once again to appeal to what was left of Enishi's decency.

"Enishi, it's not too late to end this. You can let me go. I'll never mention what happened here. You –"

Misao's pleas were interrupted by Enishi's laughter. "Dear Misao, I'm doing this for you. Only I can keep you safe. I can spare you from Tomoe's fate."

"Enishi, look at me. I am not Tomoe. I am Misao You don't have to worry about me –" Misao found that she was once again cut off by one of Enishi's monologues. This time he was rambling about how wonderful Tomoe was and how tragic the end of her life had become. Enishi seemed to forget that Misao was even in the room with him.

* * *

"You can't be serious." Yumi screeched upon hearing Aoshi's retelling of his conversation with Saito Hajime.

"Komagata-san, Saito-san has an extensive volume of information regarding Yukishiro Enishi. I have no reason to doubt the veracity of his statements." Aoshi rubbed his forehead in frustration. Apparently he was the only one who did not see the need to waste time being shocked by Saito's revelations.

"Yukio-san, is this true?"

Aoshi turned to see Kamatari addressing one of the club's newer waitresses. One eyebrow arched, silently inquiring about the young woman's connection to the current situation.

Kamatari sneered as he once again thought about what Yukio had done. He poured himself another glass of vodka as he told Aoshi, Kaoru and Kenshin of Yukio's relationship with Enishi.

Aoshi's eyes narrowed as he set his gaze on the offending party. He took several deep breaths before attempting to say anything. Unfortunately, such patience was not hereditary. A shrill screech emerged from Kaoru's vocal chords. As she lunged for Yukio, Kenshin pulled Kaoru into his lap and encircled his arms about her.

"Miss Kaoru, hurting Yukio-san will not help us get Misao back -- that it won't." Kenshin kept his grip on her arms, knowing that Kaoru would seriously injure Yukio if given the opportunity.

Yukio, still seated, felt the weight of Aoshi's gaze, the heat of Kaoru's anger and the cool calmness that emanated from Kenshin's forced smiles. She knew that this was not going to end the way that Enishi planned. She knew that Enishi had underestimated Misao's effect on those around her.

"Yukio-san, I believe that Kamatari asked you a question." Kenshin's voice cut through the silence.

Yukio looked around the room, a room filled with people loyal to Misao. She sighed, wondering what about this Misao inspired such behavior. Lowering her head, she responded.

"It's true. Enishi is rather ill, even with the medication."

Yumi gasped as fresh tears fell from Kaoru's eyes. Soujiro found his way to his sister's side and placed his hands on her shoulders. The simple touch reassured Yumi that Misao soon would be back among those that cared most for her.

"Now that we know who has her, where is she and how do we get her away from him?" Soujiro posed his question to the group.

Yukio's small voice informed them that Enishi had taken Misao to his apartment. Enishi, feeling justified in his actions, felt no need to hide her away. At this new piece of information, Kaoru groaned, admitting that she had not a clue to the location of Enishi's apartment.

Kamatari walked from behind his desk. Yukio could see that he meant to do her serious bodily harm. With the office's current occupants, he would have very little interference. Yukio flinched as Kamatari's hand came up to her face, grasping her chin.

"I don't think we'll have much trouble finding Enishi's place. Do you Yukio?" Kamatari emphasized his question with a rough squeeze of Yukio's chin.

"Start writing." Yumi bit out as she threw a pen and pad in Yukio's direction.

Kamatari released Yukio, giving her just enough room to reach down and pick up the notepad. As her righted herself, Yukio knew that every pair of eyes was set on her. A quick discreet glance about the room exposed her to a myriad of emotion – concern, anger, fear, rage. She sighed as she wrote the address. Enishi truly did not know what he had gotten himself into this time.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Kenshin watched as Yukio provided her last piece of vital information. Quietly, he made his way to an unoccupied corner of the office. Pulling his mobile from his pocket, Kenshin dialed the one person who would be of the most help.

"What is it Himura? I'm busy."

Kenshin shook his head, sighing softly. He could hear Saito pulling a cigarette from its pack and putting it to his lips. "I thought you'd want to know where Yukishiro is holding Misao."

"Keep talking."

Kenshin motioned to Kamatari. He responded by tossing the notepad to Kenshin. Catching it effortlessly in his free hand, Kenshin recited the address written on the paper.

"Hmmph. Seems that Mitomo Yukio finally turned on Yukishiro."

"How did you know about Yukio-san?" Kenshin asked bewildered.

"It's my job to know all sorts of things – like where you were when Grandmother visited last." Saito paused to expel a rather large cloud of smoke in the face of an overeager subordinate. "You and your friends stay there. Let us retrieve Misao. I don't want to have to fix another one of your mistakes."

"What do you mean you know were I was when Grandmother visited? I was sick in bed."

"Hmmph. Whatever Himura – I don't have time to discuss that. Oh, tell Honjou-san that an officer will be there shortly to pick up Mitomo-san."

Kenshin stared at his phone incredulously as the line went dead. A sound akin to a growl escaped his throat and caught the attention of Kaoru.

"Kenshin, who was that?"

"Saito – he's going to Enishi's apartment now to get Misao. He insists that we stay here to keep everyone, especially Misao, safe." Kenshin shot a quick look in Yukio's direction. "He's sending an officer to pick up Yukio-san."

Yumi gathered her coat and purse and headed for the door in a whirl of barely heard profanities and Chanel perfume.

"Yumi, where do you think you're going?" Kamatari asked.

Yumi rolled her eyes. "Me? I'm going to Enishi's place."

"Yumi-san, Saito wants us to stay here. I think we should do that."

The sound of Kaoru's voice grated on Yumi's frazzled nerves. Yumi resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. She slowly formed her words, so as to not sound rude. "You can stay here if you like Kaoru. But after all this, I think that Misao will want to see a friendly face when she walks out of that building."

"Well that settles it; we'll all go," Kamatari declared.

"But, what about Yukio?" Kaoru asked. She wanted to be there for Misao as much as any of them, but she was not willing to let Yukio get away.

"Don't worry about that," Kamatari replied as he pressed the intercom button. "Shikijo, I need you to guard Yukio until the police come for her. If she tries anything, knock her out."

* * *

Misao was tired of hearing Enishi ramble on about his sister. There was only so much that a woman held against her wishes could take. He seemed to be recalling every blessed moment of Tomoe's life. Misao was about to tempt the gods by asking Enishi to take his trip down memory lane in another room when a knock interrupted Enishi's recollections.

Enishi stilled his pacing and looked quizzically toward the front door. Taking a step toward the door, he wondered who it could be. Few people knew where he lived, and even fewer would be audacious enough to come to his home unannounced.

"Who is it?" Enishi called out.

"Maintenance. There has been a leak reported and we need to check your pipes."

Enishi looked back at the bed. He winked at Misao while gagging her with a handkerchief just before he left the room, closing and locking the bedroom door behind him. Misao rolled her eyes at the action. Had he forgotten that she was bound to the bed? Did Enishi expect her to just get up and walk away? Misao sighed, resigned to wait until he decided to return. She decided to try one more time to convince him to release her. At this point, Misao had nothing left to lose. It was either convince Enishi to let her go or spend the rest of her days as a living tribute to the fallen Tomoe.

Misao could barely hear the footsteps as Enishi approached his apartment door. She heard the door slam against the wall. There was a crash and then she heard it – Enishi's cold laugh.

"_You think that you can save her. I'm the only one who can protect her."_

"_Yukishiro, where is she?"_

Again, Misao heard that chilling laugh.

"_I'm the only one who can keep her safe!"_

"_I won't ask you again."_

The sound of a body hitting the floor startled Enishi's captive. Misao's eyes darted across the ceiling as the apartment became silent. Her breath hitched in her throat as she heard the doorknob turn. The knob jiggled for a scant few seconds before it flew open, nearly coming off the hinges.

"Makimachi-san." Saito slowly approached Misao's bound form. Quickly, he scanned her body for signs of injury. Seeing none, he was inwardly relieved. Outwardly, his amber gaze hardened at the mere thought of the incompetence of his subordinates. Had the investigation been thorough the first time, the young lady before him would not have been subjected to such an ordeal. He slowly removed the wad of cloth from her mouth. While removing her wrist bindings, Saito explained how he came to find her and who sent him.

Misao sat up for the first time in hours. She rubbed her wrists, trying to relieve them of the ghosts of the handcuffs.

Misao opened her mouth to speak, but a series of coughs emerged instead of her voice. In the hours that she had been held prisoner, her lungs seemed to have momentarily forgotten how to function while Misao was sitting up. Saito absent-mindedly handed her the water bottle that was still on the nightstand prior to moving on to her ankle restraints.

"What will happen to Enishi?" Misao voice was soft, as if ashamed to still care about Enishi's well-being.

Without pausing or looking up, Saito declared that Enishi would be confined to an asylum. Upon hearing Misao gasp, Saito explained it all – from the illegal activities to the non-existent older sister.

The newly freed Misao drew her knees into her chest. She had not the words to express all that was running through her mind. Everything that she endured, everything that she allowed to be done to her was for naught. All she could manage to do was giggle. Her giggling gave way to the first bout of uninhibited laughter since she had gotten involved with Enishi. It was not the superficial laughter to which she had become accustomed. This was full-bellied, body shaking, tear inducing laughter.

Saito eyed Misao warily. He knew that people often reacted oddly to crisis situations. He just hoped that he'd be far from the young woman before she succumbed to the stress. Saito stood over Misao and handed her his jacket.

"Here, it's cold outside."

Misao looked up at Saito, really taking in his face for the first time. Her eyes quickly cut to the blue field jacket that was being offered to her. It was over. After all that she went through, it was finally over. Misao smiled fully, taking the jacket from Saito.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

Saito took a few steps toward the door, then stopped as he heard no footsteps following him. "Problem?"

"No, no," Misao quickly replied. "I just need to find my shoes – can't go outside barefooted."

Saito nodded his agreement. As Misao searched for her belongings, Saito stood at the apartment door. He watched as Misao skittered from room to room. A faint melody could be heard through the domicile. Slightly cocking his head to ascertain the sound's origin, Saito realized that Misao was humming. He watched with veiled curiosity as Misao laced her sneakers. Her humming had given way to a softly sung tune. As Saito pondered the name of the song, Misao found her way to his side. He cut his eyes in her direction, silently ordering her to follow him.

Misao flung her duffel bag over her shoulder. Taking her last looks at the apartment as she walked through, Misao said a silent prayer for Enishi. She hoped that one day he would get the help that he so desperately needed.

Aoshi stood next to an empty patrol car, eyes never leaving the door of the apartment building. In his mind, Saito was taking too long. As he contemplated going into the building himself, the door ever so slowly opened.

As she took in her first truly free breaths in years, Misao looked around, inwardly hoping that Aoshi would be there. Audibly exhaling, Misao chided herself for such lofty thoughts. She knew that Aoshi regarded her as a little sister; his interests in her were based on keeping her safe from Enishi. Even though she knew these things, Misao still could not help hoping that he would be there. Kaoru noticed the slight head motions that indicated Misao was scanning the area, looking for a familiar, non-police presence.

From behind a police cruiser, Aoshi watched silently as Misao emerged from the building. He took in every feature, from her unruly hair to her dainty feet. Externally, all seemed to be well. However, Aoshi knew that Misao would be forever changed by this incident. He knew that she would never trust him again. It was his fault that Enishi was able to kidnap her. Even if Misao were able to forgive, Aoshi was not able to forgive himself for failing her. Taking one more glance in Misao's direction, Aoshi turned to walked away before Misao saw him.

"Aoshi." A soft voice halted Aoshi's retreat. He glanced down slightly, encouraging his sister to continue. "Go to her. She needs you." Kaoru roughly shoved Aoshi, nearly knocking him down.

Aoshi took a hesitant step toward Misao. As Aoshi came into Misao's field of view, she gasped. She took slow small steps toward him, almost afraid that she dreaming from the confines of Enishi's bed, afraid that she was not free, afraid that Aoshi was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Seconds seemed like hours to Aoshi as he watched Misao's approach. When Misao finally reached her destination, she closed her eyes and counted to five. Upon opening them, she smiled seeing that Aoshi was indeed in front of her. Wordlessly, Aoshi pulled Misao to his chest. Misao inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of incense and green tea that clung to Aoshi.

"Thank you."

Those two simple words from Misao's lips caused Aoshi body to tense. Looking down at the top of her head, he exhaled, letting his body relax as his grip about her intensified.

"Kaoru, where's Misao? Is she okay?" Soujiro's voice cut through the collective silence.

"Soujiro-kun, when did you get here?"

"Just now. We nearly got arrested because Kamatari wanted to play Flash-A-Cop. That doesn't matter though. Where is Misao?"

Kaoru started at the urgency in Soujiro's voice. There was a rawness that she had never heard previously. Tilting her head, she took a long look at Soujiro. His normally cheerful, though contrived, expression was gone. In its place was a clear unobstructed view of his emotions. Kaoru shook her head, chiding herself for not seeing it sooner.

"She's over there." Kaoru pointed to where Misao was still standing, supported by Aoshi's embrace.

The sight before him caused his heart to skip not one, but two beats. Muttering something under his breath, Soujiro began making his way to Misao and Aoshi.

Kamatari prevented Soujiro from advancing. "Look in that man's eyes. Really look. If you were to interfere now you would lose."

Soujiro scoffed at such an idea. Despite the height difference, he knew that he could beat Aoshi if necessary.

Kamatari shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about. Look at Misao. If you do anything rash and foolish, you'll lose Misao – as a friend."

Misao looked up at Aoshi, almost certain that she could see the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. She smiled brightly as she placed her head on his chest.

"Aoshi, take me home."


	10. Epilogue

Misao placed the last pin in her chignon as she sat in a dressing room more ornate than anything Kamatari could have imagined. A soft knock on the door disrupted her train of thought. Opening the door, she smiled as an obscenely large bouquet filled her doorway.

"I wonder who could have such pretty flowers. It couldn't be my boyfriend because he's not that thoughtful."

From behind the bouquet, Aoshi arched one eyebrow. "Would you care to say that again?"

Misao giggled as she took the flowers from Aosho and placed them in a vase that Kaoru insisted she bring. Once Misao finished arranging the last bloom, Aoshi placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

"I am so proud of you."

Before Misao can respond, there is another knock on the door. Slowly it opens and Shishio Makoto entered. Smiling wryly, he asked if anyone knew where his newest prima ballerina was. Profuse expressions of thanks spilled from Misao's lips. Shishio held up a hand, informing Misao that he gave no one chances. She earned the right to be the principal in Yumi's dance company.

Much to Aoshi's chagrin, Misao jumped up and gave Shishio the biggest hug she could manage. Looking down at the diminutive woman, Shishio barely suppressed his laughter. He turned toward Aoshi, and while still holding Misao in one arm, told the stoic young man that he planned to steal Misao away after the performance.

For the second time that evening, Aoshi arched a single brow. "If you were to steal her, I'd be forced to steal her back since she is the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with."

Shock colored Misao's features at hearing Aoshi's simply stated profession. He never expressed emotion, especially not in front of others. Shock turned to tears as Aoshi pulled a velvet covered box from his jacket pocket. Upon noticing the intimate scene in front of him, Shishio quietly excused himself.

Aoshi heard his name softly uttered by Misao as he opened the box. With his eyes fixed on hers, Aoshi murmured two simple words -- "Will you?"

For the first time, silence was Misao's answer as she took the ring from the box and placed it on her finger.

THE END


End file.
